To Say My Name
by kukumalu01
Summary: Harry accidentally steps onto a time-turner, and steps into a world where he died as a baby, his parents live, and Voldemort has been planning his return from a decade-rest. Will he survive? Will his parents accept him? And why is Ron a death eater? R
1. Chapter 1: Evanesco

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER.**

* * *

**Chapter One**

_**Evanesco**_

_To make things vanish_

**

* * *

**

A cold wet drizzle washed the dirt and grime from the houses in Godric's Hollow. A few stragglers pulled their jackets over their heads as they hobbled towards shelter. Dark had already fallen.

It was Halloween. The small village no longer celebrated the spooky event; its inhabitants were too old. To ask around for candy was unthinkable; anyway, the child would freeze in the cold before managing to coerce the sweet treats from the stiff neighbours. No, Halloween was not worth the trouble. Two people were slightly grateful for that fact.

These two people were sitting in the living room, staring into the fireplace. The red-haired woman was pretty, even though there were tear streaks down her pale cheeks right then. She had her face buried in the man's shoulder. The man's black hair was messy; stuck up at the back as if he had been rumpling his hand through his hair in stress recently. The man was lean, and well-built, and he was holding the woman in his arms very tenderly. His thin-rimmed spectacles were sliding a bit on his nose, but he did not move to push them back up. His hazel eyes were glistening slightly.

They were, in fact, Lily and James Potter, and they were grieving, for their son had died in that very room twelve years ago. He had only been one years old.

"James," Lily said after a long while, her voice a bit thick. "What time do you have to go back to the Ministry tomorrow?"

When Lily decided it was safe to move on, and think about their future and not about the son they had lost, then it was when James decided it was safe too.

"It's been quiet lately," James admitted, "the Auror department is suspicious though. We're patrolling the areas where Death Eaters have been reportedly sighted." He was babbling; and he knew it. "Late morning, perhaps."

"I see," Lily said softly. She pulled away from her husband and stood up, wiping her tears. "I'll make some tea. I don't feel like sleeping much tonight."

She walked towards the kitchen, stopping in the hallway for a moment. She had not been home all those years ago when Voldermort had sauntered right in the front door, as if their protective enchantments had not been there. She and James had stolen away for the night, leaving two Aurors Gideon and Fabian Prewett as unruly babysitters for little Harry. She had argued, but James had distracted her with a kiss and sealed the deal when he suggested the alternative to be Sirius Black. Lily loved Sirius like her own brother, but Sirius was more likely to blow up the house in the process too.

"Lily?" James called from the living room. He had turned in the chair, to see Lily poised still in the hallway. "Are you alright?"

And then, as if his voice had been a catalyst, there was an ear-splitting blast and a loud siren began wailing in distress.

* * *

"Lily!" James yelled. He leapt to his feet, pulling out his wand. He sprinted towards his wife. Lily had her wand out too. Her green eyes widened in alarm; the siren had jerked her out of the past quickly.

"The wards have been activated!" Lily cried out. "We need to get out!" In all the years they had resided in Godric's Hollow, they never had the occasion of having the alarm raised. "Remus's?"

"It's the full moon," James said, yelling over the loud wailing. "Sirius's place!" He was just about to grab onto Lily's hand and apparate, when the front door blasted open, and a black-haired boy pointed his wand at them.

"_Expelliarmus_!"

The two wands soared in the air and the boy caught them on reflex. James cursed; a wizard could not apparate without possessing a wand.

The boy seemed more stunned to see them, than the adults were to see a child, going on to his teens, break through protective enchantments cast by Albus Dumbledore himself. "Who are you?" he said, almost angrily, pointing his wand at them.

Lily looked at the boy closely. Her breath was still caught in her throat, but the boy resembled her husband very much. James cast a sideways glance at the wall clock in the hallway. The siren was still going strong, and in exactly one minute within effect, the other members of the Order of the Phoenix would be notified if the siren was not turned off. He just had to distract the boy.

James looked at him square in the face. Inside, he felt a stirring of pity. It was an abomination; that the Death Eaters were recruiting children now, to do their dirty work.

"Lower your wand," James said in a kind, yet commanding voice. He may be one of the more senior Aurors, but he was unaccustomed to dealing with children.

The boy snorted, and James did not blame him. It was the worst kind of advice to give to anyone. James could almost hear what Mad-Eye Moody would say. "Constant vigilance, Potter, or are you as dense as a puffskein? Don't put that wand away!"

"Answer me," the boy said, more forcefully. "Who are you? And, er-" He looked around, confusion evident on his face. "-where am I?"

Just then, the clock struck, and three dark figures appeared just outside the doorstep. The boy whirled around, and the way he held himself surprised James. It was as if he was seasoned in dealing in tight situations. Again, he felt the tug of pity.

"_Expelliarmus_! _Stupefy_!" Jets of red flew into the living room. James pushed his wife into the kitchen to avoid the spells.

A moment later, Sirius popped his head into the kitchen, grinning. "Do you have any butterbeer?" he asked seriously. "I mean, I just came back from an assignment in East London – great beers there, by the way, Prongs – and I get a call saying you need to be rescued by a twelve-year-old!"

"Put a sock in it, Black," a tall, clean-shaven man said from the hallway. "He could be under the Polyjuice Potion." James and Lily took their wands from him.

"Benjy Fenwick!" Lily said, before turning her eyes to the intruder. A blonde woman, Marlene McKinnon, was crouching on the floor beside the stunned boy.

"We'll take him to Dumbledore," she said to nobody in particular. "He would want to know who broke into his protective spells without so much as a scratch or a hex."

"I'll go with you," James said immediately. Marlene looked up in surprise. It was quite a well-known fact that the Potters liked to have a quiet Halloween.

"You don't have to, James," Benjy said, pocketing his wand. "Marlene and I were going to give him our report on Death Eater sightings."

"Aren't they usually rumors?" James said. He ignored the pointed looks that Marlene was giving him.

"That's what the Ministry wants you to believe," Benjy said, wrinkling his nose. "Fudge has been panicking for the last three weeks; no less than twenty Death Eater sightings in London. He's adamant that since You-Know-Who hasn't been active for the past decade, he has vanished from the world." He nodded towards the boy. "This is strange too. Dumbledore needs to know."

"Yeah, I'm coming." James got up. "I'm not going to stay here, after a boy breaks into my house." He looked around.

Sirius's hand shot into the air like a schoolboy. "I'll stay and raid your refrigerator," he volunteered.

Lily tore her gaze away from the intruder, and to James's horror, her eyes were wet. "I'll stay too," she said, clearing her throat. "No-" she added, when James made some noise indicating he changed his mind "-you should be in the know-how, Dumbledore might want to tell you something important, or at least how to strengthen the protective spells."

"Are you sure, Lily?" James said, looking at her with an intense gaze. Suddenly, the other occupants in the house felt uncomfortable.

Lily nodded. "It's just that today – and then this," she said, feeling as though she was not explaining enough. "Just- just get the boy's name, will you? He looks so young."

Benjy sighed. Sometimes it was hard to be the practical voice. The boy could be a seventy-eight year old hippy with a white beard for all they knew. With top marks in Concealment and Disguise during Auror training, he ought to know. "Come on," he said gruffly, gripping the boy's arm. "Dumbledore's in Hogwarts, we'll apparate just outside. Black; you'll recast the protective enchantments. I hope you still have your wits with you, after your 'assignment', which by the way, did not include drinking your way through the pubs of London."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "That was not my assignment, it was self-assigned; I was being proactive – I mean, yes boss."

"See you tonight, Lily." Lily looked up, but the four were gone.

Sirius got to his feet and stood by the doorway for several minutes. The laughter from his face was gone; he muttered a string of complicated spells flawlessly. Despite his demeanor, the intruder had alarmed him when he had gotten the message that the Potters needed help. Harry was his godson, and it was Sirius who found the still body amidst the broken banisters and torn pillows. He took his friends' safety seriously.

He closed the door when he was done, and found Lily sitting in the kitchen. She pointed her wand at the kettle, and it started steaming.

"I'm not thinking straight, Sirius," she said at last, shaking her head. "I don't know what came over me. The intruder was a young boy, and he looked so much like James that for a moment, I was thinking it was just so cruel for you-know-who to make him crash into our house today of all days…" The tears started spilling, and before Sirius could do anything, she was already wiping them away with the heel of her hand angrily. "I know - I'm stupid. It's just-" she paused, trying to find the correct phrase.

"-bloody hormones," Sirius completed. Lily gave him a weak smile.

"Yeah, that."

Sirius jabbed the butterbeer bottle with his wand and it refilled. He took a long swing, and Lily turned around and busied herself over the cup of tea.

"It's not wrong, you know, to miss him," Sirius said, not looking at her. It made him uncomfortable, to say those words, but something in Lily's face prompted him too. "And it's definitely not stupid."

"You think so?"

"Well, then that would make me one of the most stupidest prats in the world, doesn't it?"

Lily's face broke into the smile, as she understood what Sirius was trying to tell her. "Well, you are, Sirius," she said. "But thanks."

* * *

Harry Potter was having the most disconcerting day. He had just gone back in time, rescued his godfather, who was coincidentally the most wanted man in the wizarding world just then, and then had trodden onto Hermione's Time Turner by mistake. Then, the next thing he knew, he had stumbled into a dark place, and there was awful wailing about him.

When he awoke, he was pleasantly surprised to see Dumbledore's office. He was slumped on the chair at Dumbledore's desk, a seat he had last vacated when he handed over Tom Riddle's diary. Still groggy, he looked up to find a phoenix staring at him fixedly.

"Fawkes!" he blurted out without thinking. He sat up straighter, and held his hand out tentatively. Fawkes tilted his head slightly, before consenting to be touched by Harry.

"This is so surreal," Harry whispered to it. "You have no idea how strange today was…"

There was a polite chortle. Harry's head jerked up, and his right hand slipped to his pocket. Panic gripped him as he realized his wand was missing.

"You and I seem to share the same sentiments," Dumbledore said, his blue eyes twinkling behind his half-moon glasses. "Perhaps you can answer some of my questions, young man. As for your wand, I'm afraid Auror Fenwick has it confiscated. He may give it back."

Harry looked at him in confusion. Surely a broken Time Turner did not warrantee aurors…? "Professor Dumbledore, I swear, I didn't mean to break it," he said quickly. "I was tired, and Hermione's stuff fell on the floor from the bedside table, and I stepped on it and-"

He fell silent as the old wizard raised his hand slowly. "I'm afraid I'm not following you," Professor Dumbledore said kindly. "Maybe we should start with something simpler. What is your name?"

Harry's jaw fell open. "Is-is this some kind of joke?" he said uncertainly. Maybe he was dreaming. He never had fifteen chocolate frogs in a row, after all. It could just be a bad dream…

"It's quite late in the night," Dumbledore sighed. "We could continue this tomorrow morning… I do wonder where to put you in the night though, calling the Ministry would just be trouble and quite frankly, there isn't anywhere in Hogwarts I can put you… or perhaps the dungeons…"

"Professor Dumbledore, sir," Harry said, feeling more alarmed. "I had no idea Time Turners were so valuable."

"Time Turners, my boy?" Dumbledore leaned forwards, intrigued. "And you seem to be very careful in evading the topic of your name."

"But you know my name!" Harry said, pushing back his chair. It was disconcerting to see Dumbledore playing dumb about his existence. "My name is Harry Potter. Of all people, _you_ would know that."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.

Then, something happened that had Benjy and Marlene running into Dumbledore's office, from the private space within where they had been talking before. James Potter had run into the office at the two words, his hazel eyes flashing and his wand out.

"James," Dumbledore said quietly, in a warning tone.

"Don't," James said, the carefully blank expression on his face flickering wildly, "say that name."

Harry stared at the man. "You have to be kidding me," he swore under his breath.

James looked ready to curse him, but a ball of silvery light floated gently onto Dumbledore's desk. A silver lynx appeared, just as a blinding white flash of pain tore through Harry.

The last thing Harry saw was a pair of hazel eyes widening in recognition.

* * *

Like it? Hate it? Review!

A/N: edited on 23/11/2010 for contextual mistakes.


	2. Chapter 2: Stupefy

********

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER.**

* * *

**Chapter Two**

_**Stupefy**_

_To stun_

_

* * *

_

The green-eyed boy slumped into his seat suddenly, as the silver lynx turned around silently, looking directly at Dumbledore. Marlene gripped her wand tighter. She had never seen anyone having such a reaction to a Patronus before.

For the first time, the two highly trained aurors in the room were paying less attention to the captive. James was still looking fiercely at Harry, his hazel eyes wet, but his head was tilted towards the Patronus. Benjy frowned, an uneasy feeling in his stomach. The lynx opened its muzzle. Kingsley Shacklebolt's voice filled the room.

"Voldermort has attacked the Weasley's house. Ten death eaters. Aurors and the Order responded to call by Arthur Weasley. Two death eaters dead; one captive. Ronald Weasley. Respond immediately."

The Patronus dissolved by itself. There was a collective intake of breath at two words. "The Weasley traitor," Marlene said angrily, forgetting about the captive too. "How _dare_ Voldermort send him back to his family-"

"Ms. McKinnon," Dumbledore interrupted quietly, a pensive look on his face. "We do not know if the Weasleys are safe just yet. I'd like to go to Grimmauld Place now." He said it with the same temperament as if he was just excusing himself to the bathroom. "Fenwick-"

Benjy nodded, his face passive, and disapparated with a pop.

"If Kingsley knows about the attack, the auror department would have been summoned," Dumbledore mused out loud. "I'd like you two to interrogate this boy and find out his ah, real name and his purpose of his visit to the Potter Manor. It is far too coincidental that Ron Weasley and this boy would show up on the same day. I won't be long." James opened his mouth, but Dumbledore had disapparated already.

There was an awkward pause, as James stared in disbelief at the empty space where Dumbledore was a moment before, and Marlene looked uncertainly at James.

"Marlene, pinch me," James said finally. "I'm not dreaming, am I?"

"No," Marlene said. She sighed, trying to release her frustration. The Weasleys were good people; most of the family was in the Order; and she was fiercely protective of those she believed were on the right side. "C'mon, James, we need to interrogate your look-alike."

"He's not my-" James started, turning around. He stopped short, and looked at the boy closely. His features could have been molded after James's. They were nearly identical, right down to the messy black hair and spectacles; although the boy seemed to be using a cheap brand that seemed likely to break at one touch. He also had a curious lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. "Polyjuice potion," James reasoned flatly. "There's no other explanation."

"Don't flatter yourself, Potter," Marlene scoffed. "If he's used something from you, he would be in his thirties, not a thirteen-year-old boy. His eyes are green too, I saw."

"Right," James said tiredly. The stupidity of his conclusion hit him like a brick of tons; what kind of auror was he? He rubbed his eyes. "Sorry Marlene," he said, making the blonde woman raise her eyebrows. James Potter rarely admitted his mistakes. He rarely _made_ mistakes in his auror career. "I'm not thinking straight."

"That's alright." Marlene got up, and lifted the boy's eyelid. A glassy green iris met her gaze. "He's out cold."

"Wake him. You're a Healer, Marlene."

"_I_ know," she replied testily. "I mean, why did he go unconscious? Kingsley's patronus appeared, and he gave a sort of gasp, and he slumped in his chair. It's not possible that a patronus can create any bodily harm to anyone other than Dementors."

"We'll ask him." James pointed his wand to the boy's chest. "_Ennervate_."

The boy's eyes fluttered open. He groaned, as his right hand flew straight to his forehead. "It hurts a lot," he mumbled incoherently.

"Excuse me," Marlene said, her kind voice not matching the threatening way she yielded her wand at Harry's face. "You fell unconscious."

Harry met her gaze, and her wand. "Why?"

"We were hoping _you_ could answer that question." Harry shifted her gaze, and met a pair of angry hazel eyes.

Honesty was the only policy in this position; Harry had no idea who these people were. "I felt a kind of burning pain here," Harry said quietly, touching his scar, "and I don't remember anything else."

Marlene and James exchanged glances. James nodded; Harry was likely to be telling the truth. He had not hesitated or fidgeted as he spoke. Marlene's expression changed swiftly from questioning to worry. "It is probable that you are under a curse," she said aloud, more for James's benefit, "for you to experience that kind of pain."

It was hard to say who looked more startled at the revelation; James or Harry. The two of them wore the same shocked expression, with slightly wider eyes and the manner they went suddenly still. "I don't think so," Harry said after a moment. "The only time my scar hurt like this was when I – er –" _faced Tom Riddle in the Chamber of Secrets_, Harry thought uneasily, but the adults did not pay heed.

"Alright, we'll try this one more time," James said, "what is your name?"

"Harry Potter," he replied automatically. To his credit, James did not react angrily like his last outburst, but instead wore a resigned expression. Marlene gave him an apologetic look.

"He's probably still under the Imperius curse," James said. "We need _veritaserum_. I have a stock at the auror department, but it'll take a while for me to get it."

"We're in Hogwarts for goodness sake, James!" Marlene said exasperatedly. "Snape might have a stock in his office. He is the Potions master after all."

James made a face. "Snivellus?" was all he said.

Marlene rolled her eyes and got up. She was in the same year as James, and knew enough about their well-publicised vendetta to know that James was not going to approach Snape unless in the most dire circumstances. "_I_'ll ask him." She jumped to her feet and walked towards the fireplace. She threw a handful of Floo powder into the roaring flames so that the flames leapt dangerously, and then settled again in a moss green colour.

"Severus Snape!" she called.

"Snape!" Harry blurted out without thinking. He had not been following the adults' conversation, lost in his own thoughts, until the roaring fire distracted him.

James looked back at Harry, and then frowned when he realised, as if for the first time, his age. "You are very young, y'know. What school do you go to?"

"I'm a third year in Hogwarts."

There was another exasperated sigh. "You can't be," James said, trying to match his voice with Marlene's kind, gentle tone. It was not the boy's fault he was Imperius-ed. "Otherwise Dumbledore would recognise you."

Harry could have strangled the air. Everything he said was thrown back into his face as a lie. The only thing that prevented an outburst was a small, sudden realization that he had come across this situation before. It was like being back with the Dursleys.

Marlene was speaking into the fire quickly, and as time went on, her conversation grew more agitated. "I'm not sure what I can tell you Severus, it's Dumbledore's business mostly and he hasn't given approval – yes, I know you are in the Order but – Oh dash it all!" She looked away crossly, at James and Harry, and then all of a sudden her face brightened. "Severus," she said sweetly, "_James_ Potter is here."

There was a pause, and then Marlene straightened up with a tiny bottle in her hand. The fires flickered, turning into its usual ember colours.

James had a real, broad grin on his face that Marlene had not seen that night. "Fantastic!" he told her enthusiastically, "I wish I had seen Snivellus's face when you said my name!"

"There is no lost love between you and him, huh?" Marlene said dryly.

"What? There's no lost _anything_ between us, thanks."

"James… Potter?" a quiet voice came. The two adults turned simultaneously. Harry was looking at James with a strange, intense look. "No, you can't be!"

The boy scooted back into his chair in alarm, so that the chair scrapped on the carpet. "I thought you were there, when the dementors came for me and Sirius, but Hermione said it couldn't be, and she was right! And now- here-"

Marlene thrust the bottle into James's hands and quickly ran forward. The boy was babbling now. "He's becoming hysterical, James!" Marlene said, in a controlled voice from years of experience of being a Healer.

"_Don't say that name; _he_'s dead_!"

"Give him the veritaserum, it's not an antidote but it'll sedate him for now-"

James tried to pull the stopper off the bottle with difficulty. _Damn him Snivellus_, James thought, as he stabbed his wand on the cork of the bottle. It flew out. Marlene had done some quick spellwork so that Harry was now struggling against invisible bonds in his chair. She took the opened bottle from him and with careful aim, forced it down Harry's mouth.

It took a moment for the potion to take effect. Marlene stumbled back so that both adults were leaning on Dumbledore's table, breathing heavily.

"He's very strong," Marlene said, combing her fingers through her hair once-through as she did when she was nervous. "I hate using spells on my younger patients."

"He knew Sirius," James continued, frowning, "and he had a violent reaction to my name. He thinks I am dead."

Marlene watched as a soft, peaceful expression came over the boy's face. She was thinking about the boy's reaction. It was not very different from James's reaction when the boy claimed to be Harry Potter.

_"Don't," James said, the carefully blank expression on his face flickering wildly, "say that name."_

Marlene cleared her throat. "Alright," she said gently, "What's your full name?"

"Harry James Potter," the messy haired-kid said, almost dreamily.

"My God," James breathed in, his eyes widening. "It can't be."

"Ask him something, James, something that you know about your son."

If Marlene had not asked him in a very gentle voice, and she had not been one of his friends, James would have snapped at her. "Okay. When is your birthday?"

"31st July 1980."

James sucked in his breath. "Snivellus screwed up this bunch of potions, didn't he?"

Marlene gave him a look. "No, he didn't. Severus doesn't 'screw up' potions." She turned to Harry, since James seemed to be in shock. "Are you under the Polyjuice Potion? Is this your real appearance?"

"No, I'm not. I look like this."

"It's amazing he even knows what a Polyjuice Potion is," James muttered. "He's thirteen."

Something in Harry urged him to explain more. "I used the Polyjuice Potion in my second year," he said peacefully, with the same amount of serenity as Dumbledore used.

"Really?" James was intrigued by the use of such a complicated potion in his second-year, but the thought of a potion prodigy made him think of Lily. "Who are your parents? And how did you come to my house?"

"My parents are Lily Evans and James Potter," Harry said slowly, a cloud passing through his face. "They died when I was one years old." There was another collective intake of breath. "I'm not sure about the other one though. I tried to tell Dumbledore just now; me and Hermione had just saved Sirius and Buckbeak, and he locked us back in the Hospital Wing. Madame Pomfrey had given us, I mean Ron, Hermione and I, a bunch of Chocolate Frogs to eat. I took the last one from Hermione's table – she didn't want it – and I accidentally swiped all her stuff onto the floor because Ron woke up just then and Hermione had shrieked his name. I accidentally stepped on her Time-turner, and I fell on Ron's bed, and then the next thing I knew, it was dark and there was an awful siren."

It was a long speech, but Harry either was accustomed to recounting a series of events or it was the effects of veritaserum that made him amble on at his own pace, unperturbed by the perplexed expressions on the adult's faces.

"Why were you saving Sirius?" James asked, and at the same time, Marlene pondered, "The only reason why Madame Pomfrey would give you such large amounts of chocolate is because of Dementors. How did you run into them?"

With a sigh, Harry began explaining to them.

* * *

Ron Weasley was completely bewildered. First, a black dog had broken his leg and pulled him towards the Whomping Willow, only to turn out to be the animagus of mass murderer Sirius Black, who was incidentally Harry Potter's godfather. Then, it turned out that it was his rat he had been housing for the past ten years that was _the_ mass murderer. His Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, one of his most respected teachers though he would never tell, was a werewolf, something he had grown up listening to horror stories from other boys, eventhough his parents had sat him down and told him they were lies.

He was housed in the hospital wing after the whole fiasco, and eventhough Madame Pomfrey had mended his broken leg in a heartbeat, he was ordered rest and chocolate, both of which he made no protest. Professor Dumbledore came in while he was half-asleep, like any normal boy would, and talked to both Harry and Hermione, who looked upset. The next thing he knew, Hermione had thrown something over Harry's neck and the both of them disappeared, and reappeared a second later, looking worse for wear.

Thoroughly confused, Ron gave up trying to follow the order of events when Harry reached out for the last Chocolate frog on Hermione's dresser, his mind half-asleep. Ron groaned and sat up, attempting to argue for the last Chocolate frog too. He knew Harry would give in. Hermione had noticed him, and shrieked, causing Harry to stumble of some things, and land on Ron's bed. The last thing Ron had felt was Harry's calloused hand before being transported to darkness.

"Ronald Weasley!" a harsh voice snapped angrily.

Ron snapped out of his stupor. He looked around. There were a handful of men crouching in the long dried grass, blending perfectly well in the dark night with their black cloaks and masks. Ron gave a cry of surprise.

"Shut up!" the same voice hissed. "Why are you in Muggle clothing, Weasley?"

Ron paled. For some reason, he had not been killed on sight by the Death Eaters. Instead, they were conversing with him! Trying to be inconspicuous, he drew out his wand.

"Be quiet, Dolohov," a silky voice from behind them said sharply. "Weasley knows what he is doing. He's supposed to get us through the wards – do you think they would think twice if he's in Death Eater robes?"

"Death Eater robes?" Ron repeated, in a soft terrified voice. What the…? He craned his neck and muttered, "_Lumos_!" A soft light bathed the grass and he could see a little house in the distance. It had white walls, and the building had sunk slightly into the ground, settled. "The Burrow!"

"Malfoy-" the man called Dolohov began angrily.

Lucius Malfoy cut him off. Saying that Ron was scared was an understatement. In the Whomping Willow, even with a werewolf and a murderer on the loose, Ron felt assured that he was relatively safe, with Hermione and Harry. The three of them depended on each other, and looked out for each other. He was alone with a ring of Death Eaters now, in an attack seemingly in the Burrow, and apparently he was leading the attack. There was no scathing in Malfoy's voice when he said "Weasley" and Dolohov had refrained from killing him on sight.

It had to be a bloody nightmare – there was no other explanation.

"On three, Weasley, run towards that hen coup of a house," Lucius instructed, casting Dolohov a glare before lowering his mask down towards his face with an elaborate swish of his wand. "One."

Ron sucked in his breath. What the hell was he supposed to do now? Lead the Death Eaters into his house? It was the school term – only his parents would be home. They would be killed if there were ten Death Eaters against two witch and wizard. In a desperate attempt to wake up, he pinched himself. "Wake up, wake up!" he groaned under his breath.

"Two."

Ron felt the Death Eaters stirring around him. He felt fear rise in him, and he stopped breathing. His wand hand was shaking uncontrollably now, as questions raced through his head. _When_ did the Death Eaters capture him? A thought struck him. Was he under the Imperius Curse? If anything, the thought panicked him even more. He had no idea what it felt to be under the curse that had his father come home dead tired every night for a stretch of time, and had explained to him and Ginny, when they were younger, in weary tones about the Imperius Curse.

"Three!" The Death Eaters had gotten up and was running quickly. Dolohov had pushed past him, and looked back, realising that Ron had not moved an inch. "Weasley!" he barked, and Ron felt a blast of pain in his shoulder. The impact startled Ron. He looked back, a masked Death Eater had scurried forward with his wand drawn, and dragged him forwards. "Run, Weasley, run!"

More confused than scared, Ron did just that. He ran forwards, his long legs allowing him to catch up with the first few Death Eaters. He shuddered as a cold feeling passed through his body, and he knew he had passed the magical barrier. _Since when did Mum and Dad put up a magical barrier? _he thought.

Lucid dream or not, he could not just stand by and let Death Eaters kill his parents. "Mum! Dad!" he hollered at the top of his voice. "There are _Death Eaters_!"

If the thought of the Death Eaters killing him on the spot for betraying them ever occurred to him, he did not need to worry. The Death Eaters took up his yell with incoherent battle cries of their own.

To his shock, and relief, he counted no less than five red heads popping out. "Bill?" Ron spluttered, as he recognized the long hair in the silhouette of his brother in the dark. "What are you doing here?"

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Ron recognized his mother's voice, as she cried, "Quick, Fred, George, grab Ginny! The portkey-"

Bill's wand hand raised, and for a moment, Ron thought that everything was going to be alright. His older brother was going to fight the Death Eaters. The latter were yelling curses, and obscenities that had his mother shrieking in rage and his father yelling hoarsely as spells rebounded everywhere. Jets of light were like lightning, allowing glimpses of people's faces. His mother's fearful face, his father's determined face, was that… Charlie? He was supposed to be in Romania!

All of a sudden, there was a cry of anguish. It was a high-pitched, terrible scream. It came from a girl.

_Ginny._

A green light illuminated Bill's face, and Ron widened his eyes. There was an expression on his older brother's handsome face that he had never seen before. _Fury_.

It scared the thirteen-year-old Gryffindor even more than the Death Eaters.

"_Stupefy_!"

Darkness enveloped Ron again.

* * *

A/N: The response to this story has been _unbelievable_ :) The number of reviews slowed to a crawl though. I've been working on this chapter for days, and I hope it meets up to your expectations!

So the silver ball is a Patronus :) I thought the cliffie in the last chapter was _why _Harry was fainting but heh, he faints too much, huh?

I LOVE reviews; continue reviewing at every chap^^

Haha. And I really love Ron; too many fanfiction writers bash him up :( I understand where they're coming from, he was a git in the 4th and 7th book really, but he's a normal Gryffindor guy. He's just a child that hasn't lost his innocence yet, and judging from the epilogue, never will. He's a great character! I hope I portrayed him OK.

Like it? Hate it?


	3. Chapter 3: Legilimens

**DISCLAIMER****: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER.**

* * *

**Chapter Three**

_**Legilimens**_

_To penetrate memories_

* * *

The candles that lit Dumbledore's office gradually became stumps, its flames flickering wildly as a sign it was time to magically restore the candles to its original regal height. James Potter and Marlene McKinnon did not notice. James was now sitting on the floor like a schoolboy, his wand forgotten in his right hand as he listened to the astounding story pouring out from the boy who likened his name to his son's. Marlene was leaning against the leg of Dumbledore's table, her knees drawn to her chest, feeling like she did when she was small and listening to stories by her older brothers.

Between the questions from the two of them, Harry had somehow managed to talk about how he found out about his godfather; and a few snapshots of Professor Lupin's class; the Dementors and how they had attacked him during Quidditch and how Professor Lupin taught him the Patronus Charm. He trawled backwards in his year, after spending a good half hour solely on Quidditch.

"James," Marlene had interrupted. "One more question about Quidditch and I am going to put the _Silencio_ charm on you."

"But Marlene, you were a Chaser on the Quidditch team!" James had whined, eager to get back to the conversation about the tailwork on the Nimbus Two Thousand. He had been skeptical that such a broom existed, until Harry started describing its riding experience in detail. "Surely you understand."

"I do like Quidditch, except I don't particularly care whether the broomstick handle is exactly two inches wide or the tailwork is immaculate. Now, shut up James. Go on, Harry, you were saying about the Dementors?"

The two adults had started accepting Harry's words; not only because of the _veritaserum_ but also because of the way he said it. It was so natural. His face lit up when he mentioned Sirius's name, he looked unconsciously proud underneath his embarrassment when he said he had won the game, he relaxed his body visibly when he talked about his best friends, Ron and Hermione.

He had yet to mention their surnames.

* * *

They traveled back in time, when Harry accidentally mentioned the Chamber of Secrets, when James asked him how he knew about Fawkes. It had James sitting up straight. "I know that legend!" James had exclaimed. "Sirius had heard about it in passing from his father, so Remus researched it. We – er – we tried to find the Chamber."

"You what?" shouted Marlene then, aghast. "Harry nearly died in there, James!"

"I was a naïve fourth-year!" James had said defensively. "Who would have thought it was in the girl's bathroom?"

"Where did you look?"

"Slytherin's dormitories. We didn't really look though. Sirius thought it might have been cooler to 'flush' the culprit out."

"Oooh! So _that_'s why you flooded their dorms!"

Glancing at Harry's widened eyes, James shrugged. "All in a day's work, m'boy."

"And a week of detention too."

"Shut up, Marlene. Go on then, Harry."

* * *

Harry was getting visibly tired. He stifled a yawn as he reached the end. James and Marlene exchanged a look.

"Dumbledore needs to know about all this," Marlene said nervously, "We should have brought him here ages ago. I'll go get him. Er- give Harry something to drink and eat, James."

She walked out of the door to Dumbledore's office. It was just James and Harry in the office then. Harry looked up at James expectantly, tired of talking.

"Do you want some sandwiches?"

Harry nodded. "Thanks."

James gave a wave of his wand not unlike Professor McGonagall in his second year, when he missed the Feast. A couple of sandwiches appeared on a plate on Dumbledore's table. Harry reached out and took one.

"Do you think Professor Dumbledore will believe me?" he said, taking a bite.

"I think so." James took one of the sandwiches too. "I hope he won't be long though. I promised Lily I'll be home soon."

The look on worry on James's face melted to horror when Harry looked at James, fear mingled with excitement in his bright green eyes. "Lily Evans?" Harry inquired curiously. "My…mother?"

James lowered the sandwich. "Harry," he said slowly, "_we_ are not your parents."

"Why not?" The two words cut through James keenly like a knife. "I'm born on the 31st of July; I have my dad's messy hair and my mum's eyes, I have had people tell me all about my parents the past three years after spending a decade thinking they were killed in a car accident!" Harry's voice was rising in volume, and his calm demeanor broke. His temper was a lot like Lily's; a quiet anger that simmered for a long time before flaring up in an explosion.

"Harry-"

"I've always wanted to meet my parents," Harry said quietly, more to himself. "It doesn't make sense. You're supposed to be dead. If you aren't dead, why aren't you my parents?"

James rumpled his hair. He walked to the front of Harry's chair and put what he hoped was a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. "We aren't your parents, Harry, because we had a son. He-" James cleared his throat, he did not like talking about his son. "-died."

"Oh." There was undoubted sincerity in the short word. There was a respectful pause, before Harry continued. "But what does that have to do with me?"

"His name was Harry James Potter, like yours." James repeated. "You really do look like how I pictured him to be, at your age. He shares the same birthday too. Looking at you, I'd say he was _you_. But you can't be him, because he died. Today, twelve years ago."

"I'm sorry." Harry did not quite know what to say, but his brain was geared to overdrive. "But er, Mr. Potter." Of all the names he had thought of calling his father, Mr. Potter was not on the list. James raised his eyebrows at the sudden change of tone, but did not interrupt. "Even if you aren't my parents" – he stumbled over the words, but seemed determined to continue – "I don't understand anything. I'm here. And I _know_ most of you. This is Hogwarts, and this is Dumbledore's office. The phoenix's name is Fawkes. Professor Dumbledore still acts like Professor Dumbledore."

"Well, how else do you want him to act?"

"That's the point!" Harry burst out. "You don't understand – it's as if everything changed when I woke up! You are alive, Professor Dumbledore doesn't know me and you question me as if I am a criminal!"

"Calm down, Harry, you're working yourself up again." James did not bother correcting the fact that he was alive; always had been alive. For the last three decades or so, give or take a couple of years.

"Working myself up?" Harry leapt to his feet, and James drew his wand. "THIS DOESN'T MAKE SENSE - AND I'M NOT GETTING ANY ANSWERS! IT'S LIKE I'M FROM ANOTHER WORLD OR SOMETHING!"

James sighed, and loosened his grip on the wand again. It really was like dealing with a furious Lily. His usual three tactics was to run away before she got worked up, kiss her and make up, or keep quiet and try to reassure her in the end.

"I believe you, Harry," James said quietly. "I really do. I'm an Auror though – not a Seer. Even if you were not a Death Eater, like Ron Weasley, you might still be under the effects of a Dark curse. I don't understand why you have the same name as my son, or why you are here. Just- just wait until Professor Dumbledore comes, okay? He'll have your answers, sort out whatever curse it is and take you back home."

"Hogwarts _is_ my only home," Harry said testily. "And what is a Death Eater? And what have you done with Ron? Or let me guess- he isn't alive and I'm only imagining my best friend under the effect of a Dark Curse?"

Harry did not doubt for a moment that Professor Dumbledore would have the answers. The problem was, that Professor Dumbledore did not recognise him and it proved that something odd was happening, never mind a man who seemed to be James Potter – _his father_ – was alive. So how could he trust the new version of Professor Dumbledore? Or was it all really just the effects of a Dark Curse? What did that have to do with the Time Turner? Harry groaned at the complexity of the situation and sank his head into his hands.

The grip on his shoulder suddenly tightened painfully. "You know Ron Weasley?" a quiet voice replied.

"I've been telling you about him for the past-" the words died in Harry's throat as he looked up and saw the wand pointed into his face. "Why," Harry said, clenching his teeth, "do you keep pointing your wand at me?"

"This isn't funny, Harry," James said angrily, "Your story checks out with me, and you don't seem to be a Dark wizard to me. You're still a child. Ron Weasley, on the other hand, is _very_ bad news. Now I need to know, are you associated with Ron Weasley in any way?"

"Ron is not a Dark wizard!"

"He's a Death Eater!" James spat.

Confusion was evident in the pair of green eyes, and James felt a twinge of guilt at his tone of voice. He was right – whoever this Harry was; he was still a child. "Death Eaters," James explained, lowering his wand, "are Dark wizards, Harry. They're you-know-who's supporters. They like to torture and kill, especially the muggles and muggleborn."

Harry's eyes were tired. "So this is another new thing then," Harry muttered under his breath. "So what's the Ron here like?"

"What do you mean?" James frowned.

"In this messed-up dream I mean." Harry gave a hollow laugh. "Is he dead, like you're supposed to be? Or maybe he doesn't know me, like Professor Dumbledore."

"If you don't know Ron Weasley, I think you've been obliviated as well. Damn, I'm tired." James leaned against Dumbledore's table, and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. "Alright. If you really are just a third-year student, you need to be vigilant. Weasley here came to Hogwarts like any other Weasley kid. You know their family, right?"

"Seven kids," Harry supplied, and James nodded.

"Good. So far, they've all been sorted into Gryffindor. This Weasley, on the other hand, got sorted into Slytherin."

"_What?_"

"He really was a good kid," James said softly, looking away. "We were close to Gideon and Fabian Prewett – Aurors, they were. Their sister is Molly, and she married into the Weasley family. We'd see them occasionally."

Harry kept silent, but inside he was reeling from shock. It was impossible to fathom Ron in the green and silver house. Ron may be judgemental, but it was Ron who stuck by him eventhough his godfather was a wanted mass murderer, and even wanted to give the Minister of Magic a piece of his mind about the prosecution of innocent Hippogriffs.

"You-know-who hasn't come out for the past decade," James continued, noticing the stricken look on the boy's face, "but Death Eater raids have continued. It dwindled recently, but it was at its height about two years ago, when Weasley was in his first year."

"First year?" repeated Harry.

James affirmed his statement. "In his first year, the Malfoy Manor got raided by Aurors. Unfortunately, Lucius-" he snapped the word in unveiled disgust "-was housing quite a few wanted Death Eaters, including Dolohov and the Lestranges. There was a fight, and the Death Eaters escaped. There were five fatalities that day – three Aurors, one Death Eater, and Lucius's son."

"_Malfoy_ died? I just saw him a couple of minutes ago!" Harry thought of the time travel, when he saw Hermione punch Draco Malfoy with great satisfaction.

"In your dreams, maybe," James said wryly. "He was eleven-years-old, and wandless, in the middle of a fight between trained Aurors and a good number of skilled Dark wizards. He had no chance." James cleared his throat. "Well, Ron Weasley was visiting Malfoy of course, during that summer."

Harry gave a laugh, and he did not care about his supposed father's reaction. It really had to be a ridiculous dream.

"Lucius thought that Weasley would be the perfect substitute son, and Weasley didn't disagree. Money has been tighter than ever in his family, and he didn't particularly like having hand-me-downs his whole life, compared to the riches in the Malfoy's family. It came as a shock for everyone. He's only been recently joining mild Death Eater activities." James sighed. He rubbed his forehead. "Actually, Harry, I'm not sure why I'm telling you all this."

Silence met his statement, and James looked at Harry. The said boy had gotten up from his seat, the invisible bonds released once Marlene had left the room, and took another sandwich. Harry pointed towards James and remarked, "Ron was standing there, you know."

It was James's turn to be disconcerted. "What?"

"In front of Professor Dumbledore's table. We were just awarded an award, for services to the school." Harry tilted his head slightly, his green eyes challenging, like Lily's were when she knew she was right; that she should be winning the argument and that he, James, should be backing down now before she hexed him. "Death Eaters usually don't get special recommendations from Professor Dumbledore himself. The Ron _I_ know did though."

"You don't believe me?"

"I believe you," Harry countered evenly, "as much as you doubt me I suppose."

James frowned at Harry. For some reason, he felt the urge to believe everything Harry was saying. Harry seemed to have such a certain view of what was right, and what was wrong, and James felt inclined to believe in him. _Where did this kid come from?_

* * *

Just then, heavy footsteps were heard outside the headmaster's office. Harry turned around in his seat at once. The door burst open and Benjy Fenwick walked into the office, his wand pointed at Harry.

"Dumbledore's orders, we're taking you to Grimmauld Place," Benjy said gruffly, looking as though he had aged ten years in their absence. "It seems as though Weasley knows a Harry Potter, and Marlene's been babbling about a boy with an extraordinary resemblance to Auror Potter over there."

"Hello? I'm still here."

"Be quiet, James, I'm still your superior." Benjy frowned. "James, Dumbledore wants to know if you'd bring Lily to Grimmauld Place as well."

"Is she in danger?" James said immediately, standing straighter.

"Not that we know of," Benjy answered, "but it can't hurt to be safe."

James nodded. "Sirius will be thrilled to have visitors over to his… ah, house," he noted sarcastically.

Benjy snorted. "He hasn't called the place his own house without adding words like 'bloody' and 'hell hole'."

"Wait," Harry said, standing up. It was the first time Benjy had heard the boy speak, and he gave Harry a thorough glance. "Ron is at this, er, place?"

"You're on first name basis with a Death Eater," Benjy stated, iciness layering his voice.

"No," Harry said impatiently, and to James's amazement, completely ignored the Senior Auror as he turned around to James. No self-respecting criminal would turn their back to one of the most successful Aurors of the day. "As in, the Ron _I_ know?"

"Long story," James said dryly, to Benjy's questioning glance. "We think that this boy is Harry Potter, and he's been addled by a Dark Curse or something, so that he thinks Ron Weasley is not a Death Eater but his best friend."

"Yeah, and the Chudley Cannons will win their first season in four hundred years." Benjy grabbed onto Harry's arm, despite the boy's protest. "I'll see you in a few minutes then, James. We shouldn't be keeping Dumbledore waiting."

* * *

**About an hour ago**

Ginny Weasley found herself staring at her thirteen-year-old brother's face for the first time in three years. He had vanished from Hogwarts the day Draco Malfoy died, and enrolled in Durmstrang according to some rumors. Other rumors, however, had him under the wing of feared Death Eaters, who taught him all he knew about curses and torture which he liked to inflict recently to Muggle families.

"Are you alright, Ginny dear?" Molly fussed, after tending to Charlie. He was now sitting at the kitchen table, still sore from the hex he took in his stomach. He grinned slightly at Ginny, when Molly transferred her focus to her.

"I'm fine, Mom," she replied, trying to push away her mother's hand. "I don't need any healing spells; I just tripped."

Molly sighed, and then looked at Ron. Almost instinctively, all the Weasleys looked up. Molly had been putting off looking at her youngest son for the past twenty minutes, fussing over each of her children. Suddenly, Ginny wished that she was severely injured, just to get her mother's attention away from Ron.

"Is that really…"

Mad-Eye Moody, who was called down to the Burrow, stepped forwards from the shadows near the staircase and stood beside their prisoner. "It's not a glamour spell, and we're almost certain it's not the Polyjuice Potion," he reported brusquely, "only the real thing can get pass the magical barrier around the wards."

They were all seated in the living room, in various degrees of distress. Ron was strapped to a kitchen chair, tied down by ropes conjured by Moody. He was still unconscious. In his motionless state, he looked peaceful and innocent, incapable of the murder of three muggles just the week before.

Arthur moved to comfort his wife, who was still staring at Ron as if she was remembering a different time. In the silence, all of them heard the soft sound of an apparition. Seconds later, Benjy and Dumbledore were walking quickly into the living room.

A sharp intake of breath by Benjy was the only reaction to Ron's presence.

Dumbledore surveyed the newcomer under his half-moon spectacles for a long moment. Without shifting his gaze, he said softly, "I apologize profusely, Arthur, Molly, about my oversight in the magical protection. Especially since I asked the children to be with you, since the threat letter arrived in my office a week ago."

Arthur reassured Dumbledore politely that it was not his fault, but Molly was still staring tearily at Ron.

"Alright, we're going to wake Weasley up," Moody announced suddenly. "Whatever you hear from him will probably not be the truth, so take it with a pinch of salt. Fenwick, _protego_ spell."

Benjy performed the protection charm, and Charlie spoke up uneasily. "Is it really necessary to have protection spells around him? Can't you just disarm him?"

"There is such thing as wandless magic," Percy informed everyone, although he sounded more anxious than pompous as he usually did when he was dispersing information.

"That is really advanced magic," Ginny argued, surprising herself at her intervention. "Ron's only a year older than me!"

"Enough!" Moody shouted, before an inter-sibling rivalry could become full-blown. "We appreciate your concern, Weasleys-" Charlie snorted, Moody could hardly have sounded more impatient at their bickering "-but we need to have _CONSTANT VIGILANCE_!"

Fred and George snickered at the surprised look on Charlie's face, as Moody shouted the last two words into his face.

"I have his wand anyway," Benjy said, holding up the wand. Charlie was frowning at it, but before he could say anything else, Dumbledore turned around.

The twinkle was back in his eye. "He may not be capable of wandless magic, Percy, but accidental magic can be as dangerous. We must remember that in his shoes, he is in the territory of his enemies, and may lose control of his emotions." The warning sobered everyone.

He turned back to Ron and softly said, "_Ennervate_."

Ron groaned, and the Weasley children all took a step back involuntarily. "Five more minutes, Mum," he mumbled, and tried to turn over.

Molly burst into tears. Arthur patted her on the back reassuringly. Bill glanced sideways at his siblings. None of them seemed to show any hatred to Ron, although Fred and George, and Percy were eyeing him with warily. On the other hand, Ginny was leaning forwards to her older brother.

"Hey Bill," Charlie whispered, nudging him.

"Ssh! This is kind of a life and death situation here, Charlie. It might not be a big deal to _you_that this is the first time in three years he contacts us…"

"That's not my wand."

"_What_?"

"He's been using my old wand, remember?" Charlie said, nodding towards the bulge in Benjy's jacket pocket. "That's not it. This one looks newer."

"Well, maybe Malfoy bought him a new one. Shut up, Charlie, you can ask him about that earlier."

Ron opened his eyes, and saw the wizened headmaster bending over him, inspecting him like a newly-discovered pixie. "Professor Dumbledore!" he exclaimed, in relief. "The Death Eaters – I"

"I apologize again, Arthur, Molly," Dumbledore said, and pulled out his own slender wand.

"What in Merlin's pants-"

"_Legilimens_," Dumbledore said calmly.

Ron suddenly clutched the sides of his head. "What are you doing to him?" Ginny cried out, shocked at the abrupt movement.

"It's a spell that allows the caster to see the memories of the said person," Bill answered.

"Wicked," Fred awed aloud immediately.

"It's incredibly hard to master," Bill added, "so don't even think about it, Fred, George."

After a minute, Dumbledore lowered his wand. "Are you mental?" Ron blurted out.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrow. "I thought it aloud?" he inquired serenely.

"I am _not_ a Death Eater!" Ron said hotly, drawing gasps. "I don't know why I was at the Burrow either!" He looked around, to his brothers and sister for the first time. "Why were you at the Burrow?" he asked in confusion. "Isn't it still the school term?"

"How would you know where we were?" one of the twins said suspiciously.

"I may have been in the Hospital Wing, with Harry and Hermione, but I might have recalled the other couple of months we've been in the same school, George," Ron said sarcastically.

Fred drew in a breath. "He could tell us apart!" he said incredulously.

"He's never been able to do that," continued George, stunned. "Even as a kid."

"Of course I can," Ron said, sounding angry now. He made to stand up, and discovered the magical bonds. "What the bloody hell is going on?"

Dumbledore looked down at him. "Alastor," he said contemplatively, "I think we may have caught not the… traitor Weasley, but another Ron Weasley instead."

"_What_?"

Only one red-haired boy had a different reaction. "_Traitor_?"

* * *

A/N: 46 reviews were as close to 50, I suppose. I've recently discovered the REPLY TO REVIEW button, lol. Pls help me push the number to 60+?

Benjy and Marlene are not OCs, but original Order of the Phoenix members. Here, they're just... not dead.

Do you think Harry, James and the Weasleys were in character?

Harry is very honest when he speaks, so I think the mere retelling of his third year - well, mass murderer turns out to be James's best friend, two awesome brooms; Firebolt and Nimbus Two Thousand, Hippogriff and Time Turner - is more than enough to say that Harry is either telling the truth under _veritaserum_and they should believe him, or scenario two that Harry is telling the truth under _veritaserum_and he's an unfortunate boy who got adled by a Dark Curse. Marlene believes the former, and James believes the latter.

Like it? Hate it? Review!


	4. Chapter 4: Crucio

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER.**

* * *

**Chapter Four**

_****_

Crucio

_To inflict unbearable pain_

* * *

"Read this, Green Eyes."

A piece of parchment was shoved into his face. Harry squinted in the dark. "The headquarters of the Order of Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London."

"Excellent." Harry felt his arm being grabbed, and the world dissolved suddenly in darkness.

* * *

**At the Potter Manor**

For some unfathomable reason, Sirius had managed to convince Lily to sit cross-legged in front of the fireplace with a sizable pile of Chocolate Frogs and Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans as if they were both eleven-year-olds fresh from trick-or-treat duties.

"Sour plums," Lily concluded, making a face as she popped a small sweet into her mouth. "Remind me again, Sirius, why we are doing this."

"It's tradition!" Sirius exclaimed, tactfully avoiding the word 'Halloween' or any reference to the date at all. "East London had wee midgets dressed as pillow cases or trash bin bags, and they had piles of candy! We are two self-respecting adults and all we managed was two bottles of Butterbeer? Pepper."

"They're dressed as _ghosts_ and _witches_, Sirius – I think it's cute. Ah!"

Lily wanted to give him a look, but a Chocolate Frog jumped up just then, distracting the both of them. Lily scooted backwards on the rug so it would not stain her shirt. Sirius came close to grabbing it in mid-air. The frog jerked sideways triumphantly, only to land in the fireplace. The two adults stared at the melted pool of chocolate goo on a flaming log.

"That's an idea," Sirius said at last, "we could roast marshmallows and let Chocolate frogs leap all over the fire."

"That's inhuman!"

"That's chocolate," Sirius said, as if pointing out the obvious to a particularly dense toddler. "We should get Moony over tomorrow, he loves this stuff."

"Melted goo?"

"Melted chocolate goo," Sirius corrected.

There was a short pause. "You're a crazy twit," Lily diagnosed finally, but her words did not match the smile on her face. "Chocolate."

"Aha!" Sirius exclaimed exultantly. "That's what I've been trying to tell you. You're getting it at last!"

"No, I mean the bean's flavour is chocolate – _James_!"

* * *

The said man had apparated in the living room. He turned around quickly to them, and the two adults sitting on the floor could see that he appeared more stressed than usual. His black hair was sticking up in the back in all directions, and he was constantly lifting his spectacles and rubbing his eyes.

Sirius stood up, with a Chocolate Frog in hand, and vanished the pile of sweets lazily with his wand in the other hand. When James rubbed his eyes for the umpteenth time, Lily gently pried his thin spectacles from his hand and kissed him. "Are you alright?" she asked, taking in the way he hunched his shoulders and the faraway look in his eyes.

"It's been a complicated evening." Still, James gave her a reassuring smile, while nonchalantly raising his wand. "_Accio_ frog!"

The Chocolate Frog zoomed immediately into James's outstretched hand, leaving Sirius open-mouthed. "Prongs!"

"The Burrow was under attack," James said, biting off a leg quickly. Lily pulled away. Before she could shower him with relentless questions, James added hurriedly, "They're all fine. Ron Weasley has been apprehended, and is at Grimmauld Place for questioning. Har- ah, the intruder- is being taken there too."

"So everyone is at the bloody hell house?" Sirius scowled. Now that he was no longer distracting Lily from her husband's absence and the untimely intrusion, he let the smile slide off his face. The mention of his family home added fuel to the fire.

"Basically, yes." James nodded. "Fenwick, McKinnon and the whole Weasley family. Dumbledore wants us to go there too, just in case."

James felt Lily's grip on his sweatshirt go tighter. "Is there a planned attack here?" she asked, her voice calm. James felt like kissing her again – it was typical of Lily to try to be clear-headed in the face of danger, and not stutter and hide behind her husband.

"No-" James began, but the caterwauling sirens started up again, cutting off his words.

* * *

The three adults immediately tensed up, and James stepped in front of Lily instinctively, blocking her view from the door. "Grimmauld Place. Now."

Sirius did not question his Auror partner, and vice versa, a fact that had saved both their lives during various sticky spots. He turned about the spot, his old home in his mind. For some reason, he always pictured it with him turning the brass doorknob to the door of the house, as he was leaving his family to live with James in his sixth year. It was the single liberating moment he had in the Black household.

He opened his eyes a second later when he realised the familiar plunging sensation he had in his stomach whenever he apparated had not sunk in. James had come to a similar realization, and the look of horror on his face only lasted a second, quickly replaced by one of grim tension. Lily had tears in her eyes, as her quick mind allowed her to see the implications of the Anti-Apparition Spell. Still, she too had her wand out.

"Did you put the usual hexes in the magical ward?" James asked Sirius quietly.

Sirius raised his eyebrows, eventhough he was still facing the window – the nearest opening to the house to him. "You are not serious."

"Shut up, _Padfoot_," James said, but Sirius could hear the exasperated amusement under the tension in his voice. "This means that they should only be coming in by the door."

"Guess again, Mr. Potter," a cold voice sneered.

The door blasted open with such force that the furniture in the living room shook. Unlike Sirius and James, Lily did not have any Auror experience, and was taken back by surprise. She stumbled back several steps to near the banisters. It took considerable willpower for James not to turn his back and run to Lily.

"Malfoy," Sirius identified with contempt, "still wasting all the Sleakeasy Potion on your hair? You're still an ugly git."

Lucius Malfoy ignored him. His white blonde hair was in stark contrast to his black Death Eater robes. He was wearing evidences of a recent battle; a bloody lip and a bruise on one side of his face, as if he had fallen on the floor involuntarily at one point. "You're getting careless," he continued. "Just a simple Anti-apparition spell, and some wand work, and I have you trapped like sitting ducks." His pale eyes fell on Lily, who was glaring at him. "Of course, with a Mudblood wearing the pants in this relationship, I shouldn't be surprised."

James growled, shifting the attention back to him. "Don't you _dare_ call her a Mudblood!"

"Mudblood, Mudblood, Mudblood!" squealed a voice behind him. James swiveled around on impulse. Sirius gripped his wand tighter when he recognized the voice.

Bellatrix Lestrange stepped down the staircase, each footfall deliberately heavy. Three steps away from Lily, she looked down and grinned maliciously. All of a sudden, every occupant in the living room knew what she was planning to do.

"_Stupefy_!" Lily cried, scrambling up.

"_Protego_!" James yelled, but he was just a second too late. Bellatrix dodged Lily's spell and whirled her wand. With a cry of pain, Lily was suddenly slammed against the wall, tightly bound in ropes. Her wand dropped to the floor.

Behind Lucius, another Death Eater suddenly rushed into the house, his wand outstretched.

"_Incarcerous_!" All of a sudden, spells were flying all over the room. James and Sirius ducked the curses cast by the three competent Death Eaters, and flung spells of their own. It must have only been a matter of seconds, and half the living room was destroyed. Sirius grunted, as his wand arm got slashed, and blood splattered on the mirror, which burst a moment later by a misfired spell.

A scream of pain, followed by a "STOP!" ceased the fight. Seeing that James and Sirius were momentarily distracted by the scream, Yaxley bellowed, "Expelliarmus!" Soft swearing came from Sirius's direction.

James staggered up, the bleeding cut on his leg forgotten when he heard Lily. Bellatrix was standing over her, her hair in a mess, her wand pointed towards Lily's chest.

Sirius did not need to look at James to know he had a shocked expression in his face. He spoke up. "What do you want?"

"My son has been taken," Lucius snarled. "Where is he?"

Sirius had plenty of sarcastic comments to reply to _that_, but Lily snapped harshly, "He's not _your_ son, Malfoy. You grabbed him away from his true family."

"_Crucio_!" Lily slid down the wall, and thrashed against the bonds. As she moved, red welts appeared where the rope dug into her skin.

"No, stop!" It was not an Auror, who was crying it out, but a husband. Behind the forceful voice was desperation.

Bellatrix smiled unpleasantly. It was only when a murderous look, that unnerved even Sirius, descended upon James's face that she released the spell. She grinned in unadulterated delight at the challenge and wielded her wand in James's direction.

"No!" Lucius shouted thickly, his cheekbone crushed by a rocketing curse. "He has the answers!"

Bellatrix's face clouded. "But that'll teach a Mudblood to talk out of turn to a Pure Blood," she snarled. James made to move to Lily, but Bellatrix stabbed her wand in his direction. "Don't move, Potter. She deserved it."

Lily was still conscious. She was breathing heavily, trying to compose herself, but there was certain defiance in her blanched face. _She should have kept quiet_, Sirius thought, but looking at the fire in her eyes, thought twice. Lily stood up for what she thought was right, and kidnapping a child and raising him in a Dark family was not on the list.

"Where is my son?" Lucius repeated. His knuckles were slowly turning white, as he raised his wand.

"We don't know," James began, but Lucius slashed his wand down. James ducked his head, and when he looked up, blood was trickling down one side of his face.

"Try again," Lucius hissed.

The one-minute protection had worked. Sirius could hear muffled voices in the distance, unable to apparate in and prevented from coming in from Sirius's own hexes. He groaned inwardly at the irony.

Yaxley began uneasily, "We-"

Suddenly, the three Death Eaters stiffened. Yaxley gripped his left arm, dropping the captured wands. Bellatrix shrieked and ran up the stairs. There was the unmistakable Disapparation 'pop' sound heard. Lucius looked over his shoulder, sensing the human presence just outside the Potter Manor. He flicked his wand, and there was a second forceful blast from his wand. Without a door to take most of the impact, James and Sirius fell backwards.

Sirius groaned, and looked up. Footsteps thundered by his ear, and suddenly faded away. Seeing his wand, he reached out for it and yelled, "_Glisseo_!"

The staircase suddenly flattened, becoming a ramp. Yaxley yelped, but he was already on the top stair. He lunged forwards so that his back foot, which was already sliding down the ramp, would not cause him to topple backwards and slide down as well.

A well-aimed stunning spell sent by Sirius ought to have stopped him, but Yaxley got lucky and stumbled as he hurried after Lucius. He disappeared from view. There was another two loud cracks, like gunshots. Then, there was deafening silence.

* * *

Sirius kept his mouth shut, as James went to his wife, a trail of blood from his leg staining the wooden floor. Sirius picked up James's wand as well, and walked towards him. Silently, James took the outstretched wand and muttered hoarsely, "_Diffindo_."

The ropes fell apart, and Lily put her arms around James's shoulders weakly. Her face was paler, but the two men could see she was still clear-headed.

Feeling as if he was intruding on something private, Sirius turned away. Blessing his Auror training course, he murmured the complicated counter-charm to the Anti-Apparition spell.

Almost immediately, there were two loud cracks and Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks appeared in the living room. Their torn and bloody clothes made it clear that the Potter Mansion was not the first house in trouble they had visited that day. Tonks appeared wild-eyed, whereas Kingsley was surveying the damage around the house clearly.

"Where did they go?" Kingsley asked grimly, in his deep slow voice.

Sirius jerked his thumb to the staircase. He grinned at his cousin as Kingsley swept past them. He started counting down under his breath.

"Five… four… three… two-"

"Are you all OK?" Tonks asked, hurrying forwards, oblivious to Sirius.

There was a sudden shriek that made Lily jolt in James's arms. Tonks stepped on her shoelace and sprawled to the ground at Sirius's feet. Sirius grinned wider and crouched down.

"Only four seconds to trip? You're exceeding my expectations, young Nymphadora."

Tonks pushed herself up from the ground using her arms and scowled at her cousin's beaming face. She huffed, causing a stray strand of bubblegum pink hair in her eyes to shift. "Don't call me-"

"-Nymphadora," Sirius supplied, and gave a bark of laughter. He offered his hand and pulled Tonks, who was completing her last year of Auror training, to her feet. "So why do you look so… pretty today?"

Tonks rolled her eyes. "We were at the Weasleys about an hour ago. Moody took the whole lot, plus Ron Weasley, to Grimmauld Place."

James looked up. "We're due there too."

"Then you should go to Grimmauld Place now, the Death Eaters might return." Kingsley reappeared, and walked down the staircase. "There's no sign of them now. Who were here?"

It took a moment for James to shift to an objective point of view. Sirius glanced sideways at his best friend. "Malfoy," James replied finally, a split-second before Sirius was going to answer on his behalf. "Bellatrix and Yaxley followed. They wanted to know the whereabouts of Ron Weasley."

"There wasn't much talking going on though, was there?" remarked Tonks, peering at the living room. Richoted spells had blasted chunks of plaster from the walls, shredded the bulkier furniture and collapsed the coffee table.

Kingsley walked towards the remains of the table, and picked up a wooden photo frame from the floor. Its glass was shattered. He placed it on the bottom stair of the staircase and pointed his wand at it. "_Portus_."

It glowed blue for a second.

"Where's that portkey going?" Sirius asked.

"Just outside the safe house. In about a minute." Without so many words, Kingsley was telling them that they were spared from Apparating, something which required much concentration. Lily drew away from James, embarrassed.

"I'm fine," she said, but gave Kingsley a grateful look.

"We warded off a couple of Death Eaters and we still have to go to that bloody hellhole?" Sirius shook his head. "Just bloody typical."

Kingsley frowned. "Just how did you get rid of them?" Tonks asked in interest.

"Dark Mark," Lily replied, but it sounded more as if she was talking to herself. She picked up her wand and stood up shakily, trying not to make it obvious she was leaning on James heavily.

"Voldermort is getting more active," James agreed. "They got called away."

"Scrimgeour is going to want a report on this," Tonks told Kingsley.

"I thought the Ministry w-wasn't taking the Death Eater sightings seriously," Lily said, frowning.

"Scrimgeour still wants the reports done," Tonks replied. "I think Mad-Eye's rubbing off him." She pretended not to notice the look Kingsley was giving her.

"Tell Mad-Eye to update us later as well," Kingsley said, just as the portkey began to pulsate blue again.

Sirius nodded. "Will do."

Tonks and Kingsley stepped back, just as the three adults crowded around the portkey. James started when he saw the photograph. Before he could distract Lily from the photograph, Tonks interrupted.

"Are you guys really okay?" she asked, looking straight at Lily's drawn face. "Get some rest! Today is after all… I mean-" she backtracked quickly, seeing Sirius shake his head vigorously, getting more distressed at herself as each word slipped from her mouth.

Lily smiled reassuringly at the girl much younger than her, yet training for such a war. James chuckled weakly. "It's been a long day, Tonks. Don't worry."

Kingsley glanced at his watch, and started counting down.

Sirius waited for a moment, then made a face. "Yeah, _I_'m fine too, Nymphadora. Thanks for asking," he grumbled, just as a brilliant flash of blue enveloped the three adults.

It was too late to draw out her wand, and curse her cousin to oblivion. Her embarrassment forgotten momentarily, Tonks yelled into the blue light, "Don't call me Nymphadora!"

Sirius's laughter faded away a second later.

* * *

**12 Grimmauld Place, London**

"What _was_ that?" Harry spluttered, stumbling back on the stairs. He surprised Benjy by gripping tighter on his arm in order to balance himself.

Really, no Death Eater would want to hold on tighter to an Auror, no matter what the situation. Benjy was beginning to have doubts about the 'criminal'.

"Side-along apparition, Green Eyes," Benjy sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Grab your spectacles."

Harry blinked at him, and Benjy was hit by the striking resemblance between him and James. The boy stared at Benjy for a few more seconds, still disorientated. Slowly, he turned around and picked up his spectacles, his back to the Auror. When he turned back, he no longer looked on the verge of falling asleep – Benjy guessed that was what made his apparition slightly bumpy – but had a determined gleam in his eyes.

Yes, definitely like James. "I like your die-hard attitude," Benjy commented gruffly. "I'd like to remind you that I still have your wand, so don't try anything funny. Are you listening?"

Harry was looking over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing. "There is someone watching us," he said quietly, "there, in the trees."

Benjy turned around sharply, just in time to see a dark figure ducking behind a tree, a swish of black robes betraying him. "The Death Eaters are on the watch," he muttered, and quickly pushed open the door of the house. _I really have to tell Dumbledore of my Death Eater report_, he thought.

"Death Eaters?" Harry repeated in disbelief. "They know about this safe house and you do nothing?" He turned around, to catch another glimpse of the dark figure, but Benjy pushed him in and quickly shut the door. The height difference between the adult and child was obvious as they glared at each other, although Harry appeared more tired than furious.

"They're friends of you-know-who," Benjy growled. "Probably yours as well. The last thing we need is a bloody fight in a Muggle street."

"They are not my friends," Harry snapped. He tried to keep himself calm – he was going to meet Ron and Professor Dumbledore, and the whole misunderstanding will somehow straighten themselves out. "And why do you keep saying you-know-who? Fear of the name increases fear of the thing itself."

Benjy stared at Harry differently. "Dumbledore always says that," he murmured in a strange voice.

"'Course he did," Harry said, walking forwards. "He told me."

It was enough to make Benjy Fenwick, senior Auror, wonder whether the curious green-eyed boy really was who he said he was.

* * *

A/N: 84 was the response to my 60! I love you reviewers (and readers, but as a FF writer, I gotta say I especially like the reviewers)! Help me push 100 off the roof, will you? I know there's not enough Harry and Ron in this chapter, but I couldn't very well push Lily, James and Sirius in one corner. I mean, they're the Chosen One's relatives to say the least!

P.S. I know this chapter is kind of dark, and thus I may lose some readers, but pls do not judge this story based on the actions of Bellatrix! She is evil, and this was the only way to do her potrayal justice. To those who like sweet, happy endings, uh, imagine Bellatrix apparate into a pond or sth.

Like it? Hate it? Review!


	5. Chapter 5: Homenum Revelio

****

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER.**

* * *

**Chapter Five**

**_Homenum Revelio_**

_Reveals humans near the castor_

_**

* * *

**_

**A Little While Ago (during the attack of the Potter Manor)**

"Traitor?" Ron echoed in disbelief. "What are you talking about?"

Dumbledore looked at him keenly, his blue eyes piercing into the boy. "You do not remember anything that has happened to you?"

A sudden imaginary throbbing of pain hit him in the leg. Ron winced slightly at the memory. He shook his head to Dumbledore's question.

Benjy pounced on the subtle movement. "He could be lying," he suggested, eyeing Ron with suspicion. The glare he received a heartbeat later was not one of self-confessed guilt but a childish, reproachful look.

"No, I don't think so," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "He has a complete set of memories, contradicting what we know of the…usual Ron Weasley."

"The Obliviation Charm," Moody said gruffly. Ron looked up, and his eyes widened as he took in Moody's magical eye, which swiveled in its socket evidently for Ron's benefit and locked into his face, and the wooden leg.

"I know you," Ron said abruptly, "You're Mad-Eye Moody! Dad's talked about you before. You're- er-" The Auror suddenly looked more threatening as he stared into Ron's face, waiting for him to finish. The words 'off your rocker' died in his throat. "-retired?" Ron ended, his face flushing.

Moody rolled his eyes, and it was an impressive sight. "Don't be dense, boy," he snapped, and whacked the back of Ron's head.

"Ow!"

"I don't think it's the Obliviation Charm either," Dumbledore replied. "It leaves magical traces… blank spots, I would say, that he would not remember. This is very curious…"

He turned to Benjy, who was trying not to notice Fred, obviously bored, passing his twin something discreetly behind their backs. Bill and Charlie were still studying Ron, and Percy seemed to be jumping from one wild conclusion to the next, judging from the swiftly changing expressions on his face, and the occasional shaking of head.

"Fenwick," Dumbledore said pleasantly, and Benjy started. "Do you mind passing the message for the Potters to come to Grimmauld Place?"

"Hold on," interrupted Ron, before Benjy could nod his agreement. "Harry is here too?"

"You know Harry?" Dumbledore said, his voice a little sharper.

Just then, the door opened, and a tired, but visibly excited blonde woman walked in. "Professor Dumbledore!" Marlene said at once, pocketing her wand. "James and I gave him a _veritaserum_ potion, and he says his name is Harry Potter! And I think he really, really is who he says to be because he looks almost exactly like James, and he's been telling us the most amazing stuff!"

Dumbledore, who was the only one who understood her fully, raised his eyebrows. The Weasleys exchanged confused looks, and Moody was still looking very hard at Ron.

"You gave Harry a _veritaserum_ potion?" Ron goggled. "Isn't that standard procedure for criminals?"

Marlene was already sitting at the table beside Charlie. She looked up at Ron immediately, with an intense look on her face. She rose halfway in her chair before Charlie pulled her down in her seat ungraciously and updated her quietly. Her look of anger changed swiftly to confusion.

"Who's Harry?" Fred asked George very loudly.

Bill sighed. While it may be that the Weasleys' presence was temporarily forgotten, it was just like the twins to remind everyone about it.

"A boy gatecrashed the Potter Manor about an hour and a half ago," Benjy said, glancing at his watch. "Black hair, green eyes, thin face. He looks about twelve or thirteen. Anyone recognise him?"

"'Course," Ron said in surprise, just as his brothers chorused, "No."

Ron looked warily at his family. "I'm dreaming, aren't I?"

"I'm afraid not," Dumbledore answered serenely. He leaned towards Benjy and murmured instructions in his ear. "James Potter and the young boy are in my office. Mr. Potter may want to return to the Potter Manor, but the boy needs to be brought here immediately. I'll like to ask him a few questions myself. He'll need a means to pass through the Fidelius Charm. Do you happen to have a quill Alast- ah, thank you, Mr. Weasley."

Percy had jumped up and hurried forwards to pass his headmaster a ruffled eagle's quill with several of its fine feathers missing. It was obviously well-used. Percy patted down his pocket and threw the twin's an affronted look as they sniggered at his sudden haste.

Dumbledore wrote a few lines on a piece of yellowed parchment he produced from the depths of his cloak. He handed it to Benjy, who took it with a nod, and walked out of the door.

Ron watched the entire exchange with half-closed eyes. The flurry of events of the day was catching up, and he was tired. "What's going to happen to me?" Ron said aloud, thinking of his four-poster bed in the common room. "Sleep?" he muttered hopefully under his breath.

He felt the many pairs of eyes rest on him. "That is a good question," Charlie added, an identical sleepy look on his face. Bill nudged him sharply in the ribs with his elbow, so that the second Weasley doubled over and glared at his brother.

"I will like to question this young man first," Dumbledore said, pressing his fingers together contemplatively. "It'll be a few hours till dawn and I wish to return to Hogwarts soon." He looked inquiringly at Arthur.

Molly turned to her husband at once, realising what Dumbledore wanted him to do. "Arthur, ask him if he's our Ronnie," she said firmly, very quietly so that her children would not hear. "If he isn't… I want to know who he is, and why he's acting so much like him." She pointed her finger on his chest. "Do you hear me, Arthur?"

Arthur wanted to ask how Molly knew that the red-haired boy bound in the chair was acting like her real son when she had only set her eyes on him for around ten minutes, but remembered her tears. Her silencing glare did not encourage questioning her either. "Yes, of course Molly dear."

"The drawing room is empty and away from the bedrooms," Moody grunted, his magical eye rolling upwards to the ceiling.

"I'll come too," Bill added.

"Someone would need to greet the Potters and Fenwick," Dumbledore said mildly.

"I'm wide awake now," Charlie volunteered, rubbing the side of his ribs. Marlene waved her hand halfway as well.

Dumbledore nodded, satisfied. Molly took her cue, and turned around to her children. "You four, it's time for bed."

There was an explosion of groans and protests. "We want to know who he is too!" Fred and George cried out.

"I'm not tired!" Ginny said indignantly, before her mother could single her out.

"I think I'm old enough to know what's going on," Percy added stiffly. "I will be of age soon."

Charlie was stifling laughter. It had been a long time since he had returned home from Romania, and it still amazed him that all his siblings could talk in full sentences, yet alone continue the traditional loud Weasley arguments. He caught Benjy's eye across the room and grinned at him. The corners of the Auror's mouth twitched upwards.

One of the twins sneaked Percy an amazed look for arguing as well. "Even Perce wants to stay!"

Percy carefully maintained a dignified look, eventhough his ears were bright red. "As Head Boy, I have the right to remain informed of my brothers' whereabouts and well-being," he said primly.

Fred rolled his eyes at the first three words. "You're not even in school, Perce."

"Even so-" Percy began.

"Stop it!" Molly shouted, over the noise. "Your father will tell you in the morning, _if_ it's appropriate. You will go upstairs to the bedrooms right now! And if I catch anyone-" she glared pointedly at Fred and George "- out of bed, I will take away your broomsticks as of right then."

Ginny straightened up. The first year still did not own a broom, much to her chagrin. Molly noticed, and rounded on to her. "Young lady-" she began.

Ginny swallowed, and jumped up before her mother could carry on and potentially embarrass her in front of the strangers. "Good night Mum," she said quickly, and scampered to the staircase.

Fred and George groaned simultaneously. When one Weasley walked out, the others had to go. Percy wore an expression that suggested registered shock that he was not the first Weasley to obey his mother. The four teenagers trudged upstairs, with Ginny still waiting at the foot of the staircase, as Molly continued badgering them.

It took a moment for Ron to realise that the reason why he was not part of the miserable troop walking up the staircase, still protesting, was because he was the reason the rest of the Weasleys were staying downstairs.

"Interrogation time," Moody said, once the yells faded into the background, "does anyone have _veritaserum_? Where did you get your stock, McKinnon?"

Marlene replied, just as Ron felt a plunging sensation in his stomach akin to prior his final examinations.

It was not going to end well.

* * *

Harry stumbled into the corridor. It was dimly lit by the dusty, cracked gas lamps lined up on the grimy walls, giving everything an eerie green glow. For the first time, the seeds of doubt were sown in his mind of Dumbledore's allegiance. He tried hard to disregard the old regal dresser beside him with a skull pattern engraved around its sides.

He turned around cautiously. "We are in the _safe_ house, aren't we?" he whispered, half wryly.

"This is the place," Benjy confirmed grimly. "Watch the portrait."

Harry turned. The portrait was covered with a grey opaque sheet, hastily pinned in the corners. Now that he was looking, there were no other portraits along the corridor except an empty one by the end of the corridor, although there were white marks along the walls, in the middle of clean rectangle patches.

"Where're all the other portraits?"

"We took them down. We tried to take this too - it's a foul-mouthed one," Benjy explained, nodding to the covered portrait. "Bugger the Permanent Sticking charm."

"What's under it?" Harry said, now horribly fascinated by the serpent shaped candelabra. It was standing a top of an old-fashioned table with intricately-carved serpents as its legs. The serpent was staring at Harry with oddly clouded eyes, making Harry rather certain that it was a real-life petrified snake.

"Hopefully, you'll never hear her," Benjy muttered darkly. "The living room is straight down. Hurry up, Green Eyes."

Harry tore his gaze away and made to walk on, but stopped short almost immediately. A stocky red-haired man was standing at the end of the hallway, holding his wand up. A blonde woman was walking slowly to them.

"Benjy, Harry, identify yourselves," she said.

Charlie rolled his eyes. "You call yourself an Order member?" he said sardonically.

Marlene's face turned a deeper shade of green in the unnatural light, so Harry assumed she was blushing.

"It's alright, it's me," Benjy said, rolling his eyes. "The both of you are security? Really, thank Merlin you're not Aurors." His tone went from professionally crisp to a gentle grumbling so fluidly that it took Harry back slightly.

"What position did you play when we won the House Cup in our final year?" Charlie said, grinning.

"Your security question has to do with Quidditch?" Benjy echoed incredulously. "And you call yourself an Order member."

Harry looked at the three adults in disbelief as Benjy answered grudgingly, "I'd graduated already, you idiot." There were Death Eaters loitering around the safe house, which very well looked like a Death Eater den, and his best friend was wrongly accused by Dumbledore himself to be a Death Eater. It was enough for Harry to be wary, not including the very fact that he was supposed to be dead and his parents were alive. How can the three adults be exchanging greetings as if they had just entered Three Broomsticks?

Marlene caught the look on his face, and she sobered up. "We're not usually like this," she assured him, loud enough for Charlie to hear.

His grin faded, and he looked slightly guilty. "I'll take Harry to Dumbledore," Marlene continued. "Charlie, get Benjy something warm to drink. He's been out all night."

"No problem," Charlie said. Benjy seemed to be suppressing his relief. "Where's Dumbledore?" he asked.

"He's in the drawing room, with Dad, Moody and Dumbledore," Charlie answered. "They've been there for about ten minutes already."

Benjy reached into his pocket and passed something to Marlene, just as Harry's back was turned. He was looking at the empty portrait. Someone had passed inside it very quickly, as if taking a guilty peek. Suspicion built at the back of Harry's mind.

"C'mon old man; there are a couple of sandwiches in the kitchen Mum left behind."

Marlene motioned Harry to follow her. Harry looked uncertainly at Benjy and Charlie. Benjy seemed to relax subconsciously around the red-haired man. His arms were loose by his side, and the frown lines on his face vanished.

Marlene followed his gaze and smiled inwardly. "They're great friends," she said matter-of-factly. "It's grand to see such friendship, especially during hard times like these."

Harry looked back again, and thought of his best friend. _Ron, where are you?_

* * *

Ron Weasley found himself sitting comfortably on a hard wooden chair at the end of a long rectangular stained table. About twelve hours ago he would have rather sat on the floor or ask – or rather, pester – Hermione if she could transfigure the chair into a snuggly armchair. After being dragged by a dog, and running after Death Eaters, and being tied down by ropes in front of his family, he took an immediate liking to the wooden chair.

"Mr. Weasley, would you mind waiting here, while I talk to Alastor and Arthur?" Dumbledore asked lightly, after Ron settled into the chair, rubbing his wrists.

Surprise nearly disguised the confused hurt in Bill's face, when the man in his twenties looked up. What, he was still not trusted despite being in the Order for years?

"Someone needs to watch the boy," Moody barked, noticing Bill's face, "and if he's a Weasley, he definitely needs watching."

Arthur, who was guessing what Dumbledore wanted to talk to him about, gave his eldest son an apologetic face. It had been years since Arthur had asked Bill to look after his youngest brother, and the circumstances in which he was asking this favor from Bill seemed almost funny. Almost.

"No, don't worry," Bill interrupted, cutting across his father before he could say anything. "It's fine." He looked directly at Dumbledore. "I will be updated later."

"Naturally," Dumbledore replied airily.

The three walked out of the door, leaving Bill alone with Ron. Bill vented his feelings in a long sigh, before turning to his brother. He racked his brains, but he could not remember a time when he talked to Ron exclusively about anything resembling a real conversation. When he looked at Ron, to take a cue from him on what to do next, he was taken back to see the confusion and fear in his pale face.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Bill asked, frowning. "I'm not going to hurt you." It was more likely that Ron, a Death Eater, would hurt Bill, a member of the Order. It had been a long time since any of the Weasleys acknowledged that Ron would hurt them eventhough they were family. Proof of that came when Ron had attacked Hermione Granger a few months before. Hermione, his former friend.

"You stunned me," Ron reminded him, his expression unwavering. There was disbelief in his voice.

"Stunned?" Bill repeated.

"You used a Stunning Spell on me," Ron clarified. His voice had already broken, Bill realised, but it did not stop Ron from squeaking out the last word. Ron tried to think of someone who could help him, but realised with shock that almost everyone he trusted were in the house keeping him captive. His family, Dumbledore… Panic gripped him all of a sudden, and he looked around wildly for an escape. "I have to get out of here!"

"Ron, wait!" The younger Weasley scooted back in his chair and got up quickly. He made towards the door with such quick reflexes that if Bill did not know any better, he would have said Ron had been in tough situations where he had to think impossibly fast on his feet before. Bill was momentarily taken back, as Ron wanted him to be.

"_Impedimenta_!" Bill yelled the first spell that came to his mind.

Ron slammed backwards into a cupboard. The hinges creaked, and then broke, as the wooden door splintered inwards.

"Ron!" Bill shouted, and scrambled up to his brother. Ron groaned, and rubbed the back of his head.

"You didn't want to hurt me, huh?" Ron muttered under his breath. He eyed his brother's wand with a strange look of defeat mingled with defiance in his face.

Bill stared at his brother – no, Death Eater, why was he having trouble differentiating the two? "I didn't know you were going to try to escape."

"Why are you keeping me here?" Ron asked. It was starting to sound like a game of cat and mouse; Bill would make a statement and Ron would ask him why he made that statement. It was the kind of game Ron usually reserved his energy to play with Hermione; she could not help but answer his questions with increasing impatience and exasperation until she would hit him with a book. "Is Harry coming here? What – what about Hermione?"

Bill tilted his head slightly and considered Benjy's question that Ron was putting a façade of innocence in front of them. Then, he dismissed it. He was a curse breaker – he dealt with complicated runes on stone rubbles; not human behavior.

Bill crouched in front of Ron, like an adult in front of a child. He held up one finger. "One; you are a Death Eater. I don't know if you are playing games, or if your memory has been wiped. You are a threat to my family, and I won't let you out of that door. You will behave, alright?"

His voice was quiet, gentler than he expected, but the unspoken threat behind the words remained. Ron's face contorted, and he merely nodded vigorously.

A second finger went up. "Two; a boy named Harry Potter just appeared in Potter's Manor an hour or two ago. If he is associated with you, he is classified as a danger to us all, and will be under house arrest at least, if not taken to the Ministry."

"He isn't a danger, and neither am I."

Bill sighed. Ron was making it difficult. It was not a very bad tactic, Bill admitted, it would at least buy him time to figure out his next move.

"Then I advise you not to associate with him, until we figure you out."

Ron seemed to be taking Bill's words into stride, as if – as if he trusted him explicitly. Bill felt disconcerted, but continued. Talking to Ron seemed to calm him down. At the back of his mind, he wondered what Dumbledore was telling his father, and Moody.

"Three; do you mean Hermione Granger?"

Ron raised his eyebrows, in a classic 'are-you-stupid?' look.

"Bushy haired, crooked teeth, very smart?" Bill tried again. He tightened his grip on his wand. Ron stopped moving under Bill's scrutinizing gaze.

"Yeah…?"

"Merlin, they screwed your mind, those bloody Death Eaters," Bill swore. He got up, and walked away, his shoulders tense.

Ron felt a sense of forbidding, and he slowly got up from his place. A good quantity of dust bleached the back of his t-shirt. A battered box fell out from the open hole in the cupboard with a dull thud, and weathered chess pieces rolled on the floor. Ron stopped a piece with his left shoe, and a fallen king lied motionless at his feet.

"What happened to Hermione?" Ron said loudly.

Bill turned around, and there was a hardened look in his eyes. "She's dead."

Blood drained from Ron's face. "You – you're pulling my leg," Ron declared in disbelief. "It's not funny, Bill."

"It's not funny either, Ron," Bill concurred quietly. "Stop pretending." He uttered the last two words angrily.

"Pretending?" Ron shot back angrily. "She's my friend! I would know if she kicked the bucket! You can't-"

"You should know!" Bill said forcefully. "You killed her!"

* * *

A/N: Like it? Hate it? Review! Help me push the number to 130+ :) Everyone will meet up in the next chap, promise.

Happy holidays!


	6. Chapter 6: Flagrate

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER.**

**If you don't remember anything, take a minute read Chap5 at least. Chapter's a bit short, but I have exam results coming out tmr, pls wish me good luck!**

* * *

**Chapter Six**

**_Flagrate_**

_With this spell, caster's wand leaves fiery marks_

* * *

"Albus, I want to know why I just left my sons together, with one of them being a Death Eater," Arthur Weasley said immediately after they stepped out from the room. He sounded mildly curious, as if he was asking about the exact uses of the electric fan, but firm.

"Naturally," Dumbledore nodded. "This is speculation of course, but it appears to me as though that boy sitting in that room is not your son, and most certainly not a Death Eater."

Moody looked as though he had quite a number of replies to the statement, but he merely said, "And what brings you to that speculation, eh, Albus?"

Dumbledore surveyed the two wizards under his half-moon spectacles. "There is no trace of dark magic on him. Did you see his arm, Alastor? It does not have the Dark Mark."

Moody's magical swiveled to the door, just as Arthur said in confusion, "But we've never confirmed that Ron had the Dark Mark on him. He's not been seen in public since… well-"

"Since Granger," Moody concluded shortly. "You're right; he doesn't have the Dark Mark." He sounded slightly surprised.

Dumbledore nodded again. "Just a few hours ago, Harry Potter came into my office."

"He's dead," Moody cut in. "Of course he's dead, the Aurors swarmed the place that night; Sirius found the body."

"Exactly, Alastor! He too does not have any trace of Dark Magic, given that Fawkes allowed his touch so freely. I trust that James Potter and Marlene McKinnon in their judgement that the boy was telling the truth, under the _veritaserum_ potion." A grave look came upon Dumbledore's face. "What is the coincidence of two boys of the same age, both claiming to have been from Hogwarts all these while, stumble across the Order on the same day around the same time?"

There was a distant sound from the other side of the door, as if something heavy had fallen down, but the three wizards ignored it.

There was no telling what Moody was thinking under his impassive, deeply-scarred face, but apprehension was etched on Arthur's face. "What's this mean, Albus?" he said, his voice kept quiet.

"It means, that as soon as Harry and the Potters are here, it's imperative to have a meeting, with all the Order members present in the house," Dumbledore said. "And decide what to do with the boys."

Arthur frowned, intending to say more, but Moody interrupted gruffly. "We've got a Weasley coming up."

A moment later, Charlie's tired face was looking up from the bottom of the staircase to the second landing. "We've got two people at the door; we're pretty certain it's Benjy and the boy, Professor."

Charlie, who had not graduated too long ago, was still unable to call his headmaster by his name to his face.

"Bring them to the drawing room, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore answered without preamble.

"Right," Charlie said cheerfully, a sound very out of place in the dark house and the tense atmosphere.

Arthur waited until his son was out of sight before continuing. "If they're not Death Eaters, and they're not our sons," he said slowly, "Then who are they?"

Dumbledore lowered his head an inch, as if admitting a failure. "That's what we need to find out."

* * *

**Canon World**

"Hermione, do you mind if I take your Chocolate Frog?"

"H'ry, m'nn de 'hoc'let fr'g."

Hermione Granger's eyes opened in gentle exasperation, as she heard her best friends squabble over her Chocolate Frog again. Honestly, between the two of them, they could raid Honeydukes and eat all the evidence by the next day. Not that Harry will admit it, although Ron might take the credit.

Then, she sat up straight and looked directly at the ginger-haired boy, a smile quickly spreading on her face. "RON!" she exclaimed, and the day's events rushed by her. "You're alright!"

Unlike her, Harry still looked and acted sleep-deprived, with his disheveled hair and shadows under his eyes. He jerked at her loud, exuberant voice. As though fate was mocking her, what happened next suddenly sped up to make up for her hours traveling back into the past. Harry, who was standing by her bedside yawning, stumbled and his arm inadvertently swiped the entire contents of the top of the table beside her bed.

There was a sharp tinkling sound as glass broke.

"Harry!" Hermione shouted, and struggled to untangle herself from her flimsy blanket. The black-haired boy fell on Ron's bed, and Hermione looked up from the white sheet for one perfect second, when the two boys dissolved in the air.

"Harry! Ron!" she cried, and rolled off her bed, half running to the other side of the bed, half tackling the blanket.

Madame Pomfrey burst out of her office, looking scandalized. "Miss Granger, _what are you doing out of bed_?" Then, she registered the empty bed beside the small pool of sand, and the other empty bed in the opposite end of the room. "Where are Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter?" she screeched.

"I-" Hermione looked away as she came to an answer "I don't know." Her thoughts raced fast. Harry had not turned the Time Turner; he had disappeared as the Time Turner got smashed. Professor McGonagall had discussed glitches, but they were minor problems like seeing herself in the past or going too far back in time. There was nothing about disappearing off the face of the time plane with no clue on where he might turn up next. Hermione groaned inwardly. "I need to see Professor Dumbledore."

"That is the kind of answer I get from Mr. Potter all the time," Madame Pomfrey said absent-mindedly, as she tried the door. It was still locked from the inside. A faint look of frustration on her face, she took out her wand. "_Homenum Revelio_!"

The light from her wand pulsated twice, indicating only two people in the room.

"Please, Madame Pomfrey," Hermione said, adding a pleading note to her voice. In truth, she had not much of an idea, yet alone an explanation to Dumbledore, about her friends' whereabouts. However, without a doubt, she knew they were in trouble.

They always were in trouble.

Madame Pomfrey opened her mouth, with a disapproving frown on her face although her suspicion had mellowed slightly. Then, the door clicked open from the other side, and Dumbledore walked in.

"I'm here to do my regular check, Poppy. Perhaps you should bring a Calming Draught to Severus; the poor man seems to- oh!" Dumbledore began cheerfully, and stopped in front of Hermione. She looked far from the usual bored, but relatively calm patients the Healer normally had. Hermione was standing beside her bed, a heap of blanket at her feet, seemingly near tears. "Are you alright, Ms. Granger? I see you have released the other two, rather quickly."

"Please, Professor! The Time Turner smashed, and Harry and Ron are gone!" Hermione cried.

Dumbledore paused. "Poppy… I may need to borrow Ms. Granger. Could you leave us for a moment…?"

A negative answer seemed to be falling from the Healer's mouth, but she took in the worried glance on Dumbledore's face that she only saw a few times, the last of which was the Dementors attack on Harry at the Quidditch game. It was another life-and-death situation, and she had many things to say about a thirteen-year-old boy going through yet another one, but it was not the time.

"Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley…"

"We'll find them," Dumbledore nodded.

Madame Pomfrey frowned, but retreated back to her office. _Time Turner?_

"Take a bed, Ms. Granger, and I need you to tell me everything that just happened."

Hermione sat back on her bed, a panicked feeling still in her chest, and quickly recounted what had happened. "… and I called out their names, but they were already gone," she said. Her curious mind, still struggling to find an explanation to her friends' disappearance, took over control. "Professor, what happens if no specific time is indicated by the traveler? Where would the traveler go?"

There was something not quite right about Dumbledore's posture. He was unnaturally still, deep in thought, frowning slightly. "I'm afraid many wizards have disappeared upon breaking their Time Turners, Ms. Granger."

The panicked feeling joined the plunging sensation in her stomach, but she still persisted, "But where do they _go_, Professor Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore got to his feet. "Time Turners are magical objects, Ms. Granger," he said patiently, eventhough his eyes were solemn, "and as such, they are sensitive to a wizard's thoughts. It could be the Time Turner has transported them to the time and place they subconsciously want to go to." In an afterthought, he added, "The Time Turner was probably following Harry's train of thought, since he was the one who touched the Time Turner itself. Tell me, Ms. Granger, do you recall anything Harry may have said that can shed light to his whereabouts now?"

"He was thinking about Sirius a lot," Hermione said, pushing away her emotions unsuccessfully. "What if- what if they're in Azkaban? If they went back in the past… and Sirius has been there for the past twelve years…"

A slightly raised eyebrow confirmed her horrified thoughts that her idea may be a plausible statement.

"You may help, Ms. Granger, if you wish by visiting all the places _within_ Hogwarts that your friends frequent," Dumbledore said. "Keep in mind that they may turn up within an hour, or even days later."

"We'll find them," Hermione echoed nervously, "won't we?"

The Headmaster was already walking to the opened doors. He did not answer.

* * *

There were not many places in the castle that Hermione, Harry and Ron spent together. It was a school, after all. Also, given the fact that Hermione had been avoiding Harry and Ron for the better part of the year, it only took her one hour to check the Quidditch pitch, the library, the common room, the greenhouses and Hagrid's hut.

Frustrated, and at her wit's end, she found herself standing in the boy's dormitory. A quick sweep of the untidy room showed nobody, and Hermione backed away quickly before anyone noticed her.

"Hermione!" Neville said, his bag slipping off his shoulder. Hermione turned around, and the round-faced boy was standing in the entrance, confusion and embarrassment evident in his face.

Pushing aside her own embarrassment, she said briskly, "Neville, have you seen Ron and Harry?"

"I thought they were in the Hospital Wing with you," Neville said, his confusion mounting. He stepped into the dormitory, and placed his bag on the bed. "Are they in trouble?"

"What? No," Hermione replied distractedly. She doubted the fact that Harry and Ron were even in the school at all; they would have the common sense enough to look for Professor Dumbledore.

Neville did not look convinced; and Hermione was reminded of their first year when Neville was suspicious of the trio too. "Look, Neville, if you even see Harry and Ron, tell me, alright?"

The sound of footsteps from the staircase leading to the third year boy's dormitory grew louder.

"It's nearly curfew," Neville said, in a way of an explanation.

Hermione quickly walked out of the room. She ignored the glances Dean and Seamus exchanged as she hurried down the staircase at the opposite end of the girl's dormitory.

She walked quickly out of the Gryffindor common room, trying to think of other places Ron and Harry might be. She walked blindly as her thoughts raced, determined not to give up. When she passed the same corridor for the third time, she slowed down at last to shake herself awake.

She found herself standing on the seventh floor.

There was a door opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy.

* * *

**AU world**

The second landing in the house was not much better than the first. It was completely dark, apart from the sliver of light seeping from under the door. Indistinct voices could be made out. Harry squinted in the dark and tried to see where the staircase was leading. All he could see was a small face peeking out from a door, and long hair, before the figure disappeared completely. Bewildered, he turned back.

Marlene rapped on the door a few times. Harry held his breath. He had not realised how much more comfortable he had felt in Dumbledore's office, until he was standing outside the cracked door waiting.

"Come in."

* * *

Ron had collapsed back into the wooden chair, his face in his hands. Bill was standing near the doorway, talking to his father in low tones. Moody was eyeing Ron, while Dumbledore seemed perfectly contented examining the contents of the broken cupboard. When the door opened, it took a yell, "_Ron_!" to startle all of its occupants. It was not the volume of the yell; the person sounded tired as if he had done enough talking for a lifetime. It was the sheer force of emotion behind the word; relief.

Ron lowered his hands, and found a familiar face staring back at him. Harry's green eyes were brighter than usual, and the way he was closing his eyes and then blinking them hard wide open showed how tired he was. Still, Harry was looking at him with a certain degree of apprehension and concern; Ron had nearly forgotten he was involved in the attack with the Death Eaters just an hour or so before. His clothes and shoes were mud-splattered and he was certain there were bruises on his body, from the way he ached.

"Ron, how did we get to Hogwarts in our second year?" Harry said eventually. He did not notice the way Moody bristle, at the curious but somewhat pitiful way a thirteen-year-old's conversation opener was giving his best friend a security question that was usually practiced in the most dangerous times.

"Dad's Ford Anglia," Ron said, too tired to ask why Harry was asking him such a bizarre question. Or why he was there. Or where is 'there'. There were too many questions. In truth, Ron was done trying to make sense of the nightmare.

For one second, Harry beamed, looking more relaxed than the whole evening. Then, Ron's tone registered with him. "What's wrong?" Harry asked slowly. "If it's about being a Malfoy-"

Ron groaned, and answered almost at the same time. "-they think I'm a Death Eater, killing Hermione, Merlin's beard Harry, how could I forget that? I don't understand-"

"- something went wrong with the Time Turner. My parents are _alive _and I'm supposed to be dead- hang on, what happened to Hermione?"

"-Time Turner?" Ron interrupted, before Harry could continue. "Then- where the bloody hell are we?"

The two of them stared at each other. It was hard to say who was more perplexed. Nobody moved, not knowing how to react to the sudden apprehension, and fear, on the young boys' faces.

Just then, Charlie opened the door again, holding a half-eaten sandwich. "I think the Potters are in the living room, sir," he said cheerfully, not recognising the suddenly tense atmosphere created solely by the two third-years.

"So many questions," Dumbledore said quietly to himself, but his words could be heard by the entire room. "Bring them up, Mr. Weasley, and we'll try to find some answers."

* * *

A/N: I know, Harry and Ron didn't go teary-eyed, fall into each other's arms and sob! If you wanted that to happen; honestly they only hugged twice in the entire series. They're not touch-feely. Plus Ron still doesn't know they're in an AU, though Harry begins to suspect something. They're confused. (are you?) Of course, all questions will be tied up in the next chapter; it'll be an exciting Orders meeting! And an Order member is going to be fighting for his life.

Canon world Hermione is in the seventh floor hehe... anyone guessing where she's headed to next?

If you have any questions, pls tell me! Questions about the story, or questions you want Harry or Ron or the Order members to ask.

Oh, and the previous chapter title is because Hermione's the 'human' the spell is revealing; it's a character introduction see. (Every title has a meaning.)

*rubs hands for next chapter*

Like it? Hate it? Review! This is the shortest chapter yet, but it's a bridge to many things to come! Help me push 139 to 160+ pls :)


	7. Chapter 7: Aparecium

**DISCLAIMER****:****I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER.**

**Chapter Seven**

_**Aparecium**_

_This spell makes invisible ink appear._

Recap from Ch2

"My parents are Lily Evans and James Potter," Harry said slowly, a cloud passing through his face. "They died when I was one years old." There was another collective intake of breath. "I'm not sure about the other one though. I tried to tell Dumbledore just now; me and Hermione had just saved Sirius and Buckbeak, and he locked us back in the Hospital Wing. Madame Pomfrey had given us, I mean Ron, Hermione and I, a bunch of Chocolate Frogs to eat. I took the last one from Hermione's table – she didn't want it – and I accidentally swiped all her stuff onto the floor because Ron woke up just then and Hermione had shrieked his name. I accidentally stepped on her Time-turner, and I fell on Ron's bed, and then the next thing I knew, it was dark and there was an awful siren."

* * *

There was an awkward air about the drawing room, but plenty of communication was still being made as the Order, the alleged Death Eater, and the unknown teenagers waited for the arrival of the Potters. The room was shrouded in darkness, with only the two opposite ends of the room dimly lit by two tall serpent candelabras.

Marlene McKinnon had left after Charlie to fix a snack. Harry slid into the chair opposite Ron. "No talking!" Moody said abruptly when Ron opened his mouth. "If I hear a sound from the two of you, you will regret it."

Harry had jumped at the harsh tone, but Ron just gave a bleary look around the room and yawned. Without much to do at the moment, he sank into his chair, trying not to think. About his apparent Death Eater membership, about his family's coldness. Least of all, about Hermione.

Harry looked at Dumbledore, remembering his earlier conversation with James Potter. _His father!_ Harry caught Ron's eye, and the latter shrugged back. There was nothing they could do. They sat in silence, taking comfort – as much as the two young outcasts could – in each other's presence.

* * *

Dumbledore stood in front of the broken cupboard, leaning in slightly as he examined the pieces of Black family heirlooms stashed in it. Moody, who was still standing at attention with his magical eye on Ron, muttered under his breath, "Albus, what are you planning to do with that Weasley if he is a Death Eater?"

"You were never one to believe the ideal," Dumbledore said, and he straightened up. "However, if that is the case, it would provide an opportunity." There was certain heaviness behind his words, and Moody pretended to ignore it. The fact that Voldermort had managed to turn an impressionable child into a Death Eater was another mark of his cruel power and ignorance of the innocent.

On the other side of the room, Bill said incredulously, "So Dumbledore thinks Ron –uh, _this_ Ron – is from, where?" He frowned. "This is because he doesn't _act_ Dark enough?"

Though Bill had just returned from Egypt that very morning, and was probably exhausted, he was the type of person that had his wits about him always. That made him invaluable as a Curse Breaker, who had to perform under highly stressful conditions, and maybe even explained his Head Boy position. It was the reason why Arthur paused to mull over his son's words, instead of ignoring the slight accusation at Dumbledore.

"_Legilimens_ shows someone's true memories," Arthur said, pushing his glasses up his nose uncannily like how Percy did when he reached answer. "What we know about Ron, for example being with _Malfoy_ for a year and a half-" he unconsciously spat the word "-this Ron has no memory of that. Albus caught a memory of him being in Diagon Alley meeting Lockhart in a bookshop."

"Lockhart?" Bill repeated blankly. "Isn't that idiot teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts in Hogwarts since last year?"

"So _this_ Ron," Arthur said, his expression only revealing a little of how he felt objectifying his son, "has a memory of buying his second year books with Lockhart with us. And we know he didn't." Bill turned a little to look at the red-haired teenager, sitting opposite the black-haired stranger. "He has a complete set of memories, Bill. It takes someone of extraordinary power and imagination to plant that vast amount of memories in a boy, with little reason to. He's not our Ron."

_And which is worse? _Bill thought. _The Death Eater brother or the stranger?  
_

Barely three minutes had passed since Charlie had left the room.

* * *

It took additional voices echoing in the corridor for all conversations to break off. "You really shouldn't rile Tonks," advised a woman's voice. The sharpness in tone was blurred by the drained-sounding voice as if it was all it took for her to speak.

"She'll get over it," a male voice replied. "She's probably forgotten about it anyway. Good old Tonks." Each word was thrown with a careless air, of a man who thought he had years yet to live and enjoy. Harry jerked his head up, his jaw slack. "Sirius!" he blurted out.

"Huh?" Ron looked blank for a moment. "Isn't Sirius locked up in the castle?"

Harry looked as startled as the rest of the occupants of the room. "No," Harry said cautiously, glancing at Moody's stormy face. "Hermione and I, we set him free."

"What?" The door opened.

"With the help of a Time Turner and a hippogriff apparently," James Potter replied dryly, cutting in. "So _you_ are Harry's Ron."

* * *

James stood behind his wife anxiously, but nevertheless was eyeing Ron with wariness.

"What are you going on about, James?" Sirius's wand was out, produced from nowhere, and pointing to Harry. "That's the boy we caught trespassing earlier!" he said, all warmth dropped from his voice.

Lily took out her wand too, but she was staring at Ron in confusion. "Ron Weasley?" she recognised in astonishment. "You mean, Lucius Malfoy was telling the truth?"

"Malfoy-" began Moody sharply.

"Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange and Yaxley infiltrated our wards about ten minutes ago," James reported, looking straight at Dumbledore. "They got summoned by Voldermort when Kingsley and Tonks arrived. They're making reports to Scrimgeour." The last part was directed at Moody.

"How can they have gotten through your wards as well?" Bill said. "That's two attacks in one night."

"He could have weakened the wards," Sirius said doubtfully, still wielding his wand in Harry's face. "Who are you by the way?"

Benjy, who was standing behind them, rolled his eyes at Sirius's blunt manner. Bill, Arthur and Moody all shifted slightly – they too did not know Harry.

Harry stared at his youthful godfather. His hair was well-cut, his face was clean and shaven, and there were _laugh_ lines around his lively grey eyes. It did not matter that they held suspicion at the moment. His cheeks were not sunken, his teeth were not yellow, and his demeanour did not appear like he spent the last thirteen years in Azkaban.

This was his Sirius. Yet it was not.

Ron looked from Harry, who seemed shocked into silence, to James and Lily Potter. There was something fascinating in looking at a friend's parents for the first time. Instinctively, he sought for similarities between Harry and his parents. When Ron had met Hermione's parents at the end of first year, he thought he could see a vague resemblance between Hermione and her mother, though her mother had straighter teeth. Hermione's father had the unruly hair, but it looked tamed with its short length.

It took no genius to figure out that James and Harry had to be related in some way. Ron heard talk of how Harry was just like his father. With sudden recalling, he remembered the pure excitement in Harry's voice when he found the Mirror of Erised. "Come look at my parents, Ron!" Harry had yelled.

Here they were in the flesh. Except James was treating Harry like someone else's kid, Lily was holding her wand into her son's face, and Sirius looked ready to kill him.

Ron felt sick. Everything was so wrong.

"We might as well make everybody comfortable," Dumbledore said, acting oblivious to the deep confusion in the room. He had more of an air of a headmaster just then, settling some misunderstandings, rather than the Secret Keeper of the Order of the Phoenix. He waved his wand, and eleven cushioned seats hovered in the air before landing around the table. "Oh, I don't think the boys will harm us," he added reassuringly when all the Aurors in the room made no move to sit down.

With a last suspicious gaze, Sirius shook his head and walked to the end of the table. Lily pocketed her wand at Dumbledore's reassurance, and James pulled her away gently.

"You alright, mate?"

There was something unreadable in Harry's face. "Yeah."

Ron ignored the too obvious lie. "So what happened to _you_ today?"

* * *

"We're missing a few people," observed the ever-meticulous Benjy. "I'll fetch them. Who are they?"

"Charlie," Bill said. "And I think Marlene."

"Molly Weasley too, Benjy," Dumbledore said. Arthur nodded. "I'll go with you," Arthur added. "When she comes in…" _and sees Ron_, he completed the thought in his mind.

"Questions," Sirius noted, leaning back in his chair to stretch his legs as Benjy left again.

"Wait, Sirius, it'd be more efficient if everyone was here," Lily replied. She sat at the other end of the table on Harry's side, so she would not have to see the boy who looked like James. She could not even glance at him in the distance at the door without being hit by the resemblance. Opposite her Sirius sighed, a bit too used to Lily's retaliations.

"I do apologise for earlier, but I see Arthur has brought you up to speed," Dumbledore said to the man on his right. "So how was Egypt, Mr. Weasley? I believe you just arrived this morning."

Bill started. "Things have been kept busy in England still," he replied with the usual Weasley humour, before he caught himself. War made little material for jokes. Still, Dumbledore chuckled, pressing his thumbs together.

One or two empty seats down, Harry was giving Ron a very brief summary of his day quietly, albeit distractedly. _James and Lily Potter are sitting there_, a confused yet cautiously excited voice kept saying at the back of his mind. Moody still refused to remove his unwavering gaze on them.

"_That's_ Sirius? With your Dad?" Ron said, thunderstruck. He leaned forwards and looked down the table. James was smiling slightly at Sirius's newly-launched argument with Lily.

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I asked him," he admitted, and Ron's eyes nearly bulged out. "He thinks I'm addled by a Dark curse."

"This is a nightmare more likely," edited Ron darkly. "Me, a Malfoy?" Then, warily he said, "There's something you need to know Harry. I killed Hermione."

"_What?_" Harry gave a confused frown. "No-"

"Ron dear," Molly Weasley's voice came. The two boys looked up, and then Harry looked away. For that moment, she had eyes only for her son. She looked slightly fearful that Ron would not answer.

Unsure what to say, her son just said, "Hi Mum." It was rare that Molly treated him as something… _fragile_. The only time he had ever seen her like that was when Ginny woke up after being in the Chamber of Secrets.

"Take a seat, Molly dear," Arthur said to her, but Molly resolutely stayed where she was. Lily and James exchanged uncomfortable looks. After the Prewett twins died trying to protect their son, Lily always had a guilty conscience when she met Molly. They were not close, but salvaged a friendly, protective relationship.

"Are-are you okay?" Molly frowned. "Why is he on a wooden chair?"

"He can have another chair some other time," Moody said bluntly. "He's still a suspected Death Eater, Molly."

"Suspected?" Charlie said from behind Molly. "That's an upgrade, isn't it?"

Benjy whacked Charlie lightly on the head, and Marlene failed to smother a smile. It broke the moment, and Molly allowed herself to be walked to a chair. Benjy sat next to Harry, and Molly and Arthur sat beside him. Marlene slipped into the chair next to Ron.

"By the way, I refuse to acknowledge you as my brother," Bill said to the man on the right. Sirius laughed and clapped Charlie Weasley on the shoulder.

Dumbledore wore a sober expression on his face. "Let's begin. Do you mind telling us who you are?"

* * *

Ron and Harry exchanged glances.

"I'm Harry," the said boy said, "and Ron." He looked at Ron, who made a face at the bizarreness of the situation. "We're third years at Hogwarts."

"Hold on," James interrupted. Harry's heart jumped to his throat. "You're not telling it right. Start with where you've come from; tell everyone about the time turner."

"I thought you didn't believe him," Marlene voiced out.

"We just want the story laid out properly, so we can make a proper judgement," James replied seriously. Lily squeezed his hand under the table.

"Yes, yes, let's move on," Moody said impatiently.

"What time turner?" Ron said frowning. "The Ministry doesn't let people use them, do they? I mean, it's mostly experimental."

"You seem very well informed," Benjy noted. With his straight face, it was hard to tell whether it was an accusation or praise.

"Dad mentioned it once." The shrugged comment, frequently attached to wizarding explanations to Harry and Hermione, drew many glances at Arthur.

After prompting from Dumbledore, Harry continued, telling the exact same version of the story he told Marlene and James.

Dumbledore nodded in understanding, while Harry's explanation merely made the adults more confused. "Now, were you in physical contact with this… Mr. Weasley when the time turner broke?" he asked.

"Yeah he did," Ron nodded, "He banged his hand on my arm."

Suspicion cleared from Dumbledore's wizened face.

"I don't understand," Lily admitted, and several heads nodded. Benjy let his guard down for a tenth of a second to smirk at Charlie's relieved face, that someone had voiced his exact thought. No one saw him. The promising Auror, who headed a team with Aurors several years his senior, would never live it down.

"This is a guess," Dumbledore said again, "Time Turners, as Mr. Weasley has mentioned are highly experimental. The fact that a 'classmate' of theirs has procured one means that from wherever they come from, they have connections."

"That makes them dangerous," Charlie said, but it was more of a question. He did not sound daunted nevertheless; although that might be because he worked with dragons. He lived dangerous.

"We're not dangerous-" Ron repeated indignantly but Dumbledore cut across.

"Hold the thought," the headmaster said, but his eyes started to regain its spark at the good insight displayed by his youngest Order member to date. "From what I know, Time Turners have not been fully tested on. Though a traveller is most likely to land in the past, there are cases where the travellers have never been seen before." He indicated Lily with his hands. "Maybe our Unspeakable could enlighten us on this subject?"

"Your Mum's an Unspeakable?" Ron said in awe, but Harry gave him a blank look in return.

"There are theories," Lily said. She took a deep breath, still looking pale. "The most debated accounts say they vanish off the time plane, or they step into an alternate dimension, or they have created a complex time paradox causing their existence to cease, that is to say, they didn't exist at all in the first place."

"Albus, you can't be saying these boys aren't from our- our time plane," Sirius said in disbelief.

Dumbledore gave a serene nod. "At the present moment, we can assume that this boy is not Ronald Weasley, Death Eater, and Harry-"

There was a pause, and Harry filled it in absent-mindedly. "It's Harry, sir, Harry Potter."

There is noise; then there is pandemonium.

* * *

The wizards and witches leapt to their feet, protesting and arguing in raised voices. Molly Weasley turned her emotions into a fury that startled Arthur and scared her two grown sons and Ron. "Dead people don't come back to life!" she said angrily, staring accusingly at Dumbledore.

"Mum-" Bill tried to reassure her.

Arthur covered Molly's hand with his. In a quiet voice only she could hear, he said, "This isn't Harry. Fabian and Gideon died protecting an innocent child." He said it in an almost pleading way. She was seeing the teenage boy, a healthy albeit skinny boy with intelligent green eyes, _alive_ with memories of her brothers, buried six feet under the ground.

It was like a physical blow to Harry, to see Molly treat him like a stranger that displeased her with his presence. He almost expected her to purse her lips in disgust like Aunt Petunia. Merely comparing the two in his head made him duck his head. But it was nothing compared to his parents' reactions.

"That isn't funny!"

James had to fly from his chair to grab his best friend's arm. There was a dark look on Sirius's face, and his wand was already halfway raised. "Stop it, Sirius!" he shouted. "He's just a child!"

Alone among the adults – the strangers awkwardly quiet or trying to calm everyone down, the grief-stricken family, the angry friends – Lily sank back down into her chair. All colour left her face. "Harry?"

He was staring right at her. Messy black hair fell into his green eyes. His arms were wrapped around himself, in a sort of lonely hug.

Benjy Fenwick raised his wand to his throat. "_Sonorous_," he muttered. "EVERYONE, JUST _STOP_."

Authority rang in his voice. Movements ceased, and only breathing could be heard in the silence. Benjy spared a moment to look over his shoulder. Moody gave a nod.

"Good," Benjy said brusquely, "these boys are not Dark. They are not from our world." Someone moved, and the touchy Auror snapped, "We have no choice but to accept this bizarre turn of events."

"The Potters and Weasleys should remain here for the night," Moody cut in. "Until the Order recasts the broken wards in the houses."

A mutter was passed, and Moody exploded. "DEATH EATER ATTACKS! YOU-KNOW-WHO RISING! _CONSTANT VIGILANCE_!"

Silence followed again, and Dumbledore sighed.

"I believe our Aurors have summed up the situation well," Dumbledore said. There was heaviness again behind his words, acknowledging the emotional turmoil in the room. "We will find a way to return the boys. And we mustn't forget that two Death Eater attacks have occurred tonight. I need to leave. There are things at Hogwarts that needs my attention."

He stood up. The meeting was adjourned.

* * *

The Order was not one where its people lingered after meetings. Moody had to check in with Kingsley, on the Death Eater attacks. Marlene left for St. Mungo's on night shift duty. The younger Weasleys were being too well-behaved, and Arthur had sent Charlie up. Sirius had to complete his report on East London.

After ten minutes, the numbers in the drawing room dwindled down to seven. Harry, having been awake for two days technically after the time travel, had closed his eyes and did not stir. Ron had nodded off after Dumbledore left. "There's no point fussing now, Molly," Benjy said, looking at the two boys without sentiment. "This isn't your Ron."

"But they have no homes! No family!" Molly retaliated.

"We can take care of them," Lily said quietly.

"Lily-" started James, startled. "You don't understand-"

It was the wrong thing to say. "Don't understand what?" Lily snapped. "That today is my baby's death anniversary and another version of him is sitting right there? That we have been attacked personally by Death Eaters again? That Ron Weasley isn't a Death Eater? What is it, James? What don't I understand?"

There was a silence. "As long as we're clear that we're not this boy's parents," James said seriously. "That we need to return him to _his_ parents."

As soon as he said that, he froze. _"My parents are Lily Evans and James Potter," Harry said slowly, a cloud passing through his face. "They died when I was one years old."_

"We're looking after the boys," Molly agreed. "We need to stay here, until the wards at our homes are intact again."

"What are we going to tell the boys, and Ginny?" Arthur said, taking off his spectacles to wipe the frames.

"A watered-down version of the truth," Benjy said firmly. An advocate of the truth, the brazen Auror often clashed with the Ministry, and sometimes even Dumbledore, when keeping something in the dark from the public.

James looked at his look-alike, sleep erasing all the frowns from his face. "Let's get some sleep," he suggested. "We'll deal with this again tomorrow."

* * *

A/N: Like it? Hate it? Review! Help me push the number 250!

I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am. Got into a new school. Just finished the exam season, moving to the next. I won't leave you hanging so long again!

Am I the only one who hasn't watched HP7 yet? I'm waiting for the cinemas to be empty, so I can yell/cheer/weep in peace. A whole childhood of Harry Potter comes to a close soon!


	8. Chapter 8: Confundus

**DISCLAIMER****: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER.**

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

_**Confundus**_

_To cause a person or animated object to become highly confused_

* * *

_**Knockturn Alley**_

Darkness enveloped Hermione suddenly, making her squeak in fright. Logic battled fear, however. She was crouched down in a narrow space, feeling the rough sides of stone walls around her. She started to crawl forwards, her fingers scoping around the ground in front of her. "Relax," she muttered to herself. "You've been in worse places."

Suddenly, her hand gave way in front of her. Taken by surprise, she could only cry out as she fell forwards. It was not a long fall – almost as though she fell off her bed.

Hermione looked around. She had fallen from an opening in the crumbling wall behind her. "'Oo are ye?" a gravelly voice sneered from her left.

Hermione jumped, and turned around. A misshapen figure toddled forward from a tunnel. "Who are you?" she called out, putting confidence she did not have in her voice.

A face of wrinkles peeked from under the hood, making Hermione shudder in horrid. It was impossible to tell whether the person was male or female. It made a low grunt. Hermione's hand quickly slipped down her pocket as she backed away quickly.

"Get away," Hermione cried. She turned around and ran. It was like a maze, with shops hidden in the crooks. She knew she was attracting attention with her pink sweater. She stopped in her tracks suddenly, at a signpost. "_Knockturn Alley_."

Hermione put her hand to sweep away her hair from her face, as if she could not believe her eyes. It occurred to her that it was the first time she was lost in the wizarding world. She usually had her parents or the Weasleys with her. She remembered Harry getting lost in Knockturn Alley before, except he was fortunate enough to have met Hagrid and escape with just broken glasses. He had hardly seemed afraid of being lost in the wizarding world, just preoccupied with suspicions about the Malfoy.

"Relax," she told herself calmly. "Find someone." Professor McGonagall. Professor Dumbledore. As she walked deeper into the alleys, keeping close to the walls, she even considered going to muggle London and taking a cab home.

It felt like hours, but it could have been merely minutes. Her fingertips were trailing the filthy wall. For the tenth time, her right hand caved into nothingness and she stumbled to keep her balance. There was a light at the end of the narrow tunnel. She looked briefly over her shoulder. There was nothing to do but carry on.

A familiar word pricked her ears. "Weasley's been captured," growled a man in low tones.

There was a sharp intake of breath. Hermione felt slightly relieved – her gasp would otherwise have given her away. "How do you know this? He was raiding the blood traitor's house."

"The Dark Lord has just dismissed us, Borgin," said the first man irritably. "Malfoy was practically grovelling for time to find his son."

"What did the Dark Lord want?" Borgin asked hungrily.

"You know I can't tell you everything!"

There was a pregnant pause. "I expected more from you, Nott," said Borgin stiffly. "Haven't you used my shop as a neutral meeting place for your… customers? Most of them aren't even human-"

"Are you blackmailing me?" Nott said angrily. "Look, I only told you about Weasley to appease you about my disappearance for my appointment!"

"-it took a long time to get that part-troll out of my shop," Borgin said, his voice a few decibals higher. Nott whipped out his wand threateningly. Borgin raised his eyebrows.

"Shut up!" spat Nott. He gave an angry scowl and lowered his voice to a whisper. "It was about the Dark Lord's plans for the werewolf's capture to destroy the Order. He has learnt that Dumbledore has made further fortifications in Hogwarts from Severus. It's almost impossible now to snatch him away from the Whopping Willow. But Lestrange is still going ahead." Silence fell again, before he murmured heavily, "He was not pleased to learn of Malfoy's failure to capture the blood traitor family either."

It took conscious effort on Hermione's part to realise that she was eavesdropping unwittingly. Werewolves, blood traitors and the Dark Lord! She straightened up, fully intending to run as fast as she could in the opposite direction.

Then, a calloused man's hand from the back grabbed her shoulder suddenly. Hermione screamed. Nott and Borgin looked up sharply. "Granger? Didn't he get rid of you?" a third man said in disbelief. Then, the grip grew tighter. "Whoever you are, you're coming with me quietly."

"_No!_" Hermione kicked for all she was worth. She felt a hand go into her back pocket, and her wand being taken.

A rush of red light hit her.

* * *

_**12 Grimmauld Place**_

"Checkmate," Ron said, in a self-satisfied way. He and Harry watched the white king get clobbered. "Another game?"

"That's the twelfth time we've played chess this morning, Ron," Harry shook his head.

"It's not as if they are letting us to go anywhere," shrugged Ron. He jerked his head to the door. It was probably nearing afternoon, but an Order member had yet to let them out of their sight. They were appreciative of Molly's breakfast, during her assigned one hour watch, and certainly had fun with Charlie's dragon report. Still, most of the Order had their day jobs to occupy themselves with. Since Charlie, none of the Order had any inclination to mingle with the two boys.

"Do you want some tea?" a woman called from outside the room. The door opened.

"Thanks," Harry said automatically, and looked up from the chess board.

Lily stood with her back against the door, to prevent it from closing. "Here you are." She put it down on the high-top table near the door. Then she looked critically at them. It was really difficult to believe that these boys were anything but normal schoolchildren. "What are you doing?"

Harry gestured towards the broken chess pieces, crawling towards each other and placing themselves in proper shape by self-replacing glue.

"Ah, I see. Who won?"

"Ron." "I did." The simultaneous answers came without any hesitation or surprise. They seemed used to it, as if they had played chess together countless of times before.

"That can't be right," Lily thought. "They've only just met each other."

Harry was looking at her curiously. It was then she realised she had been speaking out loud. "Sorry, I'm used to talking to myself at work," Lily offered a reason. "It's useful, really, keeps your thoughts in check."

Ron blew on his drink. "That sounds like Hermione," he compared absent-mindedly.

Lily almost gasped at the casual throw of Granger's name but Harry shocked her with his casual follow-up. "Well, you can't blame her."

"We can hardly understand what she's saying half the time!"

"Maybe that's why she talks to herself instead."

Lily sat down at the nearest chair, wondering at the mindless chatter. She recognised it – it was like how James, Remus and Sirius would talk amongst one another.

Ron's face suddenly grew solemn. "I wonder what happened to Hermione," he said once more. He still sounded as though he did not believe it.

Harry sat back down at his place at the chessboard. "I don't get it," he brought up, "Why would _any_ Ron want to try and kill Hermione?"

"James told me about how he met you," Lily said kindly, looking at Harry. "I suppose if your view of Ron Weasley is different from ours, his actions are bound to differ. I'm sorry you have found that your friend is not here though." _Not to mention _you_'re not supposed to be alive._

And just thinking about her 'son' gave her a phantom stab of pain. That pain she thought had dulled over the years. Looking into Harry's face though – its identical features to James! – brought the vividness of the pain back. Yesterday's grief was still fresh in her mind. She was also worried about the welfare of the poor boys in front of her. For the time being, nobody knew what to do with them. They were nobody's problems, so they were not on top of anyone's priorities.

"Are you alright, Mrs. Potter?" Ron asked, recognising the troubled face of a parent. Goodness knows his parents gave him enough of those same looks after the Philosopher's Stone and the Chamber of Secrets incidents. He glanced at Harry, surprised that he was the one displaying concern. It shocked the thirteen-year-old more that Harry was looking at Lily curiously, not recognising the obvious emotions playing on her face directed solely at him.

"I'm fine, thank you… Ron," said Lily. She stood up. "I ought to be going to the Ministry. Marlene will take over my shift. Do you need anything?"

They looked at Lily with expressions that promised boredom in the near future.

As a person who believed in efficiency, Lily suggested the first idea that came to her mind. "Why don't you try to find something about yourselves, since you are curious?"

"How?"

"The library is always a good place to start."

At her words, Harry and Ron exchanged another glance, although this time it seemed as though they were trying to hide smiles. She continued, "There's one on the second floor. I don't see any harm in letting you boys stay up there – just keep away from the books and stick to the newspaper clippings. Sirius hoards them because he's too lazy to throw them away." Lily rolled her eyes.

"Looks like you're famous here too, mate."

Harry hoped that the faint disappointment behind Ron's words was his imagination. Lily was looking down impatiently at her watch, but at his words, she pushed her red hair from her face in surprise. "Harry? There's nothing about- about Harry in the newspapers."

She lowered her eyes quickly as she said her son's name but neither boy noticed. "Then who are we looking for?" Ron asked. His eyes widened. "Me?"

To Harry, it was like going back to pre-Hogwarts times, when he was not gawked at every action he made. He was anonymous in this place. Granted, he was technically dead. Still, it was a refreshing change.

Barely twenty minutes later, he changed his mind.

* * *

_**Black Library (Up the stairs, one door to the left)**_

"_Weasley son goes missing_," Harry said, pulling out a yellowed sheet from a box. He and Ron were sitting in the middle of a dark room, its four walls lined with bookcases and stacks of boxes around the two lone plush chairs facing the fire place. Marlene had lit the fire for them, and then disappeared.

"Let me see that." Ron squinted in the dim red glow provided by the flickering fire. "They spelled my name wrongly."

Harry chose not to comment on the 'Weasel' spelling, and instead buried his arms in another box. "This is more recent. The pages are not so yellow."

Ron, however, went still. He gathered the papers in his arms and read the headlines in succession. "_Weasley spotted at Death Eater gathering. Weasley confirmed living with prestigious Malfoy family. Hogwarts student killed by Death Eater classmate_."

"There are _so_ many articles, Harry," he said, in a sickened voice.

"It's not you, Ron," Harry said firmly. "This is another person. It's got to be." He took the paper Ron was holding. It slipped from his hands as easily as water. "It can't be that bad."

"_Top student of her year, Hermione Granger, 12, is now confirmed dead. She was kidnapped three days ago by Death Eaters, after reportedly being lured by ex-classmate Ron Weasley at Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters. Weasley was not available for comment._

_Her body was found dumped outside her Muggle parents' house. Her parents believed that she was in Hogwarts at that time, after a letter was delivered by owl informing of her stay in the school over the Christmas break. The letter has been revealed as a crude imitation of her handwriting. Hogwarts authorities did not know of her disappearance. At time of the news, Hogwarts staff was seen to be shocked. Deputy Headmistress Professor Minerva McGonagall has commented as the head of Granger's house, "We take the safety of our students seriously. This is a terrible ordeal, and we will ensure it will not happen again. Miss Granger will be sorely missed."_

_A note was left next to the mutilated body, signed with initials R.W. Auror Department will not disclose the contents of the letter until further investigation. Weasley's family has declined to comment."_

Harry's voice died to a whisper. Ron's shoulders were sagged, but he looked up instinctively when something flew by his left arm. A crumpled ball of paper burned in the fire.

"What d'you that for?"

"It's not important."

"Of course it is, it just told us about Hermione!" _How I killed her._

"It's not you," Harry repeated. "I don't think we're in the same place as before, Ron. Wherever we are, we've got to find Hermione." The two of them were here. They were missing one more.

Ron looked slightly less green. "How? We've got guards everywhere."

There was silence. Then, "My dad is here. Maybe it's time to inherit that cloak again."

* * *

_**Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom**_

Remus Lupin woke up to the sound of persistent thuds. It was the early hours of the morning, and the full moon had passed. He had never managed to return home the night before as he had told James. The aches in his body had made it too painful for him to move. He had taken the Wolfsbane Potion, and curled up in his office in Hogwarts. The Defence against the Dark Arts teacher made a mental note to tell Severus to cover for his lessons again that morning. He grimaced. Snape was not going to like being told he was going to do extra work.

There was a hammering on his door. "Open up, Remus!"

Remus flattened his mousy brown hair as best as he could so he did not look like he just rose from bed. He wretched open the door. His sleepy features immediately rearranged into annoyance. "Padfoot, don't you have a job?" he asked, prepared to close the door again.

Sirius stuck his arm between the door and the frame. "Harry's alive!"

"You're delusional. Go away, I need my sleep."

"You're not listening to me, Moony! This is a Code Flobberworms!" Remus stilled, and his eyes went wide. "I would have gone to you last night if you didn't spread false messages about your whereabouts at night." Code Flobberworms was the Marauder's expression for a dire situation. It was concocted in the boys' second year, when they dumped innocent themed Flobberworms into everyone's foods on Halloween. Each Flobberworm was painted to look like candy canes. It took a great deal of precision since the House Elves were protective about their food. Half the student population threw up upon learning their candy moved, especially after overeating in the feast. Professor McGonagall's yells were legendary, and the code name stuck since.

Sirius edged his way into the room, and sank into one of the chairs. He turned to his right, looking at the tank with the Grindylow. Without preamble, he burst out, "Yesterday James and Lily were attacked twice. The first intruder was a boy who thinks he's Harry Potter. Then Malfoy and dear cousin Bella came along."

Remus still looked at him in shock at first. Then his face started closing up into a grim look. "Are they okay? How do we know he's telling the truth?"

Sirius waved his hand impatiently, eventhough he had been worried sick at the time itself. "They're fine, yes. More importantly, what do we do with the boy named Harry? He looks exactly like James, Moony! Except his eyes, they-"

"-they were Lily's eyes," Remus murmured softly. They knew, they had crooned over and cuddled the baby boy enough times. "It's not possible for Polyjuice to last more than two hours. There aren't so many glamour spells or potions as good as Polyjuice either. They usually end up as poor imitations."

"Thank you, Professor Lupin," said Sirius grumpily. "I don't know what to think." His voice lowered to a grave whisper. He kept his gaze focused on the Grindylow, floating peacefully in the murky water. "James acts like he doesn't care, but I know the similarities are going to hit him hard soon. Lily- Lily looks sad. She believes it's him."

Remus sat down slowly in the seat next to Sirius. "What do _you_ think, Padfoot?" he asked gently. There was a long silence.

"I want my godson. If he's real, and somehow something made him appear, I'd be grateful just to spend a moment with him." He looked up, levelling his eyes to Remus's calm face. "If I find out someone is playing with us, I'm going to kill that bastard."

"How are you going to find out whether he's real?" Remus wondered himself. He looked carefully at his friend, without making it obvious he was examining him. Sirius was paler, with dark shadows under his eyes indicating poor sleep the previous few nights. That was to be expected; the Aurors were on alert with Voldemort's plans unravelling within the next few days according to insider information. Dumbledore seemed adamant on the trustworthiness of the source of his information, and was using the Order as backup as well. Despite the stress, it was not something that would cause Sirius to look for Remus, and barge into his room at the crack of dawn just to share information that would eventually reach his ears. This was personal.

"You have a day off during the Hogsmeade trip tomorrow," Sirius proposed. "You have to go to Grimmaulds Place and see him for yourself."

"You're asking me to skip a Hogsmeade trip?" He could not keep the slight amusement from his voice.

"Remus!"

"Okay, I will. I promise." He paused. "Have you talked to James?"

"I'm late," exclaimed Sirius, looking at his watch. He jumped to his feet. "Scrimgeour is going to get his knickers in a twist again."

"Sirius, be serious."

The man's shoulders sagged and he sighed. "I'm going to see him for lunch, if we don't have an assignment today. How do you talk to a man who just saw his son alive? We've never done this before."

The Marauders have done much in their lives. Four boys from different homes ruled the school in their seven years, introducing laughter and chaos to the day-to-day school life. One went on to make a family, only to have it nearly destroyed by another. Three rebuild the friendship more fiercely. It took years for James to adjust to his independence after his parents died, to comfort a wife who lost her child, to get used to the fact he was still in a war and wake up one morning to never return home again. They did not need the intrusion in their lives, especially with Voldemort's active plans.

Not now.

* * *

A/N: ... So is anyone still reading this? More Voldemort/Order action in the next chapter.


	9. Chapter 9: Confringo

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER.**

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

_**Confringo **_

_Causes anything that the spell meets to explode in flames_

* * *

Lunch hour at the Auror Department in the Ministry of Magic was always a sight to behold. On a bad day, the entire floor will be devoid of human presence, all of them involved in a case. Such incidents happened very infrequently, the last time of which happened during a homicide in Hogsmeade. Many of them thanked Merlin that it was over the school holidays, so no Hogwarts student was implicated. On a good day, there would be a great deal of noise and colour. Brilliant sparks of red and green continuously spewed from the Magical Catastrophe section at the corner in the back. Inhumane howls and sly purrs set a tumultuous tenor line at the Magical Creatures Confiscation centre at the right. The higher-ups in the departments had a row of rooms for themselves lining the corridor for several feet, with permanent Silencing Charms, giving the illusion of a well-organised department in the Ministry. The lunch lady delved deep into the department corridor in with a trolley, hollering above the wails of the animals and frustrated Aurors, delivering their ordered lunches.

Moody, Kingsley and Fenwick had their own offices, nearest to the lifts for sanity's sake. The less fortunate had cubicles in a wide room the size of the Great Hall. Still, they were better off than the trainees. Their training rooms were on a different floor, but their lounge was behind the Magical Creatures centre. After a year of training, Tonks suspected the higher ups tampered with the room to make the Silencing Charm weaker than usual. It was like an initiation test of sorts, irritating and utterly useless.

James had his own private desk against the wall nearest to the offices. It was well away from the knot of desks in the centre of the hall. It suited him well – he rarely was at his desk, given his field assignments and his habit of bringing home his assignments where he could pour over them at his comfort. When he was at the department, as he was that lunch hour, he could savour some resemblance of privacy. He had his feet stretched out under the table lazily, chatting up with the lunch lady. Sirius bounced over to him, just as the lunch lady left with an extra portion of fried chips at James's table.

"Thanks Marie!" James called, waving his arm. The lunch lady, well-used to James's antics, simply shook her head and smiled as she walked over to the next Auror.

"Using your well-oiled charms, Jamesie-poo?"

Sirius smirked as his best friend tried to kick him from under the table.

"Why are you still at your desk anyway?" Sirius asked, standing well to one side to avoid another blow. "I thought we were going to Quigley's new café downstairs. You're not abandoning me, are you?" He hitched his voice in mock horror, but inside he was slightly worried. His plans to talk to James would come to naught otherwise. "I can't handle a lunch by myself, it ruins my reputation."

"Your reputation as a lady's charmer is sealed in cement, you dog." The offending words were lightened by the playful smile on James's face. Still, it was not like him to snap like that.

Sirius took a direct approach. "What's gotten into you?"

The mask on James's face cracked, and for a fleeting moment, Sirius saw how emotionally-drained James was. His eyes were dull and he lacked the enthusiasm for life he usually radiated with.

Then, the mask was in place again. The noise in the Auror Department rushed in again at full volume, as Edgar Bones yelled for the paperwork on the Welsh Green dragon incident. Sirius was reminded of the number of people who did not know of Harry Potter, and understood the need for James's pretence. It annoyed the hell out of him that James was quietly bottling up his emotions but he understood it.

"Fenwick wants all of us in the office today. He didn't say why, but news is going around about a tip-off on a raid in Diagon Alley." James rubbed his eyes with one hand, his other sneaking into the packet of chips left by the lunch lady. "He just had about fifteen Aurors go down to Diagon Alley."

Sirius momentarily forgot about lunch. He leaned on James's desk and whistled lowly. While their Auror force was about a hundred people strong, with another fifty in various stages of training, only about sixty Aurors were active in the field. Even less were very experienced combat fighters. To have a quarter of their team called on stand-by for a tip-off meant that it was very bad news.

"So lunch is cancelled," James continued. He put a fry in his mouth and chewed contemplatively. "I know what you wanted to talk to me with about anyway." His tone softened. "It's something I have to deal with myself. But…thanks, Sirius."

_Deal with myself? _"It's not a foregone conclusion that you'll be able to 'deal' with your emotions, James," Sirius said sharply.

"I'm a grown man-"

"It's not usual, what you're facing."

James growled at Sirius's insistence to talk, then threw up his hands angrily. When Sirius decided that he wanted to talk, he went to extreme measures to make sure that person listened. He might as well have it over. He pulled out his wand and muttered, "_Muffliato_". To any other listening in to the conversation, they would only hear a slight buzz.

"I don't want to talk about it," James said flatly.

"_It_? The boy who stumbled into your house has a name, James. You need to face it sometime."

James flinched visibly. Sirius stared at the reaction. The former had acted like an apathetic stranger to Harry the previous day. It seemed as though James had had a sleepless night, wrestling with the almost painful way Harry Potter was a spitting image of himself, and the uncanny similarities. It was apparent that James had reached a conclusion to force himself to forget that it ever happened.

"_Harry_," James said quietly, "is a fairly common name."

Sirius knew that as the best friend, he should keep his cool and reason out with James. It was infuriating to have a talk with someone who refused to acknowledge what the talk was about. The burning question Sirius wanted to ask burst out all of a sudden. "What if he's your son?"

James shot up in his seat.

"_Yah_!" yelled a deep voice. James and Sirius turned around. In a freeze frame moment, James found himself with his fist drawn back as though readying himself for a brawl. Sirius had his hand in his wand pocket, already ready to defend himself with a simple Shield Charm. Curious, wide-eyed glances switched from the two Aurors to the person talking.

Benjy was standing in the middle of the corridor, glaring at the two older Aurors. "There's a Death Eater raid in Hogsmeade, not two minutes ago." It was a testament to the Aurors' discipline that not a gasp escaped them. A deathly silence blanketed the office, occasionally punctuated by an odd animal howl. "We're following the usual drill. Team A will follow me, Team B with Kingsley. _Now_."

There was a flurry of action. They leaped to the emergency fireplaces.

Sirius brushed against James's shoulder. "We're continuing this conversation later."

James ignored him.

* * *

Remus looked down at his battered watch. He was dressed in his travelling clothes, patched up and neat. He had made the mistake of returning the medicated bandages to Madame Pomfrey in person that morning. It was meant to wrap over any bleeding scratches or open wounds after the full moon, as he had had the previous month, to prevent infection. He had been feeling under the weather lately. It obviously showed in his face since Madame Pomfrey snatched the bandages, wrapped it around the faint marks on his arms and demanded him to take the day off.

No Marauder would ever turn down a day off. Not even Remus Lupin. "Are you sure?" Remus had asked Madame Pomfrey, sitting on the edge of a bed, his bandaged hand outstretched.

"This would have nothing to do with the way a certain Auror by the name of Black barged into my hospital wing this morning to demand for a day off for you," Madame Pomfrey had mentioned in a disapproving, borderline scandalous tone. "Mind you, it looked like he needed the day off." Remus's laughter got cut off when she had continued, "And so do you, young man!"

Remus planned to spend the day looking for Harry Potter, and if the piece of parchment Fawkes brought every Order member was valid, Ron Weasley. He stepped into his office's fireplace, threw the green powder at his feet, and said firmly, "Grimmaulds Place".

There was a familiar motion of being swept of his feet and spinning to nothingness. He bent his knees slightly, focusing on his balance. When the dizziness stopped, he opened his eyes and found Marlene looking at him with an impressed look on her face.

"You landed on both feet!" she said. "Are you a cat or something?"

The blonde woman smiled at him gently, letting him know that she was teasing him. As a Healer, she had met with more than one werewolf. Most of them hated themselves for what they were. She liked the way Remus held himself, looking at the world in the eye, even if he was more morbid than a hormonal woman at times. She wanted him to continue accepting himself.

"Or something," Remus answered, returning the smile. "I hear we have two guests."

Marlene stood up from the chair so quickly that it fell over. She put her hands on her hips threateningly, in a motherly fashion. Considering that she was only in her late twenties, it was a very odd action for her. Remus put his hands in the air. "What did I say?" he said.

"You listen to me," she said authoritatively, reminding him why she was Head Healer in her department. "You've probably heard stories from Sirius and James. I just want you to know that there are just two thirteen-year-old boys in the upstairs library. They have yet to display any signs of danger despite being threatened about a million times yesterday by a herd of Aurors. If I hear a peep out of you that you have judged them before spending a moment with them, I'll put itching powder in your shoes before you leave."

Remus blinked. "You spend a lot of time with them?"

"Uh, no." She sat back down again, looking at her paperwork. "I'm just tired of everyone giving the boys an evil eye before they've met them."

"It's called caution, Marlene." Remus understood the Auror's point of view. Still, he knew that Marlene had a soft spot for children. To an Auror, it was a weakness. To a human, it was perfectly understandable. Remus took years struggling to find a balance between apathy and empathy in the world of war, despite facing discrimination for his werewolf status. He was still wary of the world, but knew better than to trample on other people's innocence.

"I know," Marlene sighed. "I just had to get it out of my system. You're the first person who's come here to check on them. See if they're real." She raised her eyebrows. "That's what you are doing, right?"

Remus nodded. "Upstairs library, you said?" He made to go to the staircase, before turning around. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Itching powder?"

Marlene looked down at her work, mumbling something about spending way too much time with Sirius Black. Remus kept the grin to himself and walked on.

* * *

The voices that echoed slightly from the dimly-lit room were young. It was a strange to hear how solemn the voices were. Remus put his hand in the pocket of his robes, just in case. He stood by the door, wondering how to approach the boys when he made out words.

"-how long do you think we'll be here for, Harry?"

_Harry_.

"I don't know," the reply came. He sounded like any other schoolboy. Remus almost laughed at himself. What was he expecting, the voice of Merlin to tremor throughout the house? "If we see the cloak, we have to grab it straight away. There probably won't be another chance."

"When will he come by anyway?" Ron, as he assumed he was, said. He did not sound like a manipulative, murderous Death Eater either. "He- mpph!"

Suddenly, silence was thick in the air. Remus frowned, and strained to hear the rest of the conversation. Only his sensitive hearing allowed him to catch the muttered curse, "Bloody hell, Harry, what did you kick me for?"

"There's someone at the door," Harry said clearly.

Remus raised his eyebrows at the astuteness of the young boy's observations. He prided himself in being quiet – cough, sneaking – which was a trait that the Marauders expanded upon.

"Hello," he began, when two exclamations of "PROFESSOR LUPIN!" cut him off.

* * *

There was only one thing Remus could remember, looking at the faces of two boys. It was Sirius in his second year. He got called out of bed in the wee hours of the morning. He had stood in the empty Great Hall, staring at his mother in disbelief. Mrs. Black had on a livid expression on her face. "You are an embarrassment to the pure Black line!" she shouted, her voice echoing angrily.

James shrank back slightly beside Remus under the Invisibility Cloak. Peter was not present, unwilling to sneak on Sirius's mother. He was in bed like the rest of the student population.

Sirius had the audacity to put his hands in his pajama pockets. Professor McGonagall stood to one side of the hall, her lips in a thin line. Remus noticed however she was looking at Mrs. Black with increasing hostility.

"Childish pranks!" Mrs. Black snapped. "Your father and I don't know where to show our faces! Good thing Regulus went to a noble House, instead of a wishy-washy one!"

Sirius jerked his head up. "Gryffindor isn't a wishy-washy House," he said defiantly. He glared at his mother.

"Don't you dare-"

"Gryffindor is better than Slytherin in any way," Sirius finished.

_CRACK_. James actually stumbled back at the same time as Sirius, as if he too had been physically hurt. Remus's left leg was exposed for a second before he hastily retreated too, adjusting the Invisibility Cloak. Nobody noticed. Professor McGonagall had raised her hand slightly for a moment, shock on her face.

"Mrs. Black! Please –"

"NO SON OF MINE DISRESPECTS OUR FAMILY'S TRADITIONS!" She shook Sirius's arm hard. "I SHOULD HAVE SENT YOU TO DURMSTRANG SO YOU WOULDN'T HAVE TO MINGLE WITH FILTHY MU- MUGGLEBORNS AND HALF-BREEDS!"

It was Remus's turn to shiver. There was raw hatred in the shrill voice. He wondered at the back of his mind, terrified, whether she knew his werewolf status. _He had trusted Dumbledore!_

"I don't care," came a mortified whisper. Then, as if gathering strength, Sirius continued. "I have friends. I don't care about blood status - pureblood or muggleborn. I'd rather not have a family like this than to give up what I have."

Mrs. Black stared at him. Her heavily-lined eyes bored into her son. Then she turned to Professor McGonagall. "You heard the boy," she said slowly, her voice still loud and slightly shrill. It seemed to force a lot of effort to talk. "I don't care what he does in his blasted House anymore."

She began to walk away, slow at first, then gaining speed. Her heels made loud thuds on the wooden floors. By the time she was gone, Sirius had already turned around fully, staring at the entrance of the Great Hall. His expression, so uncharacteristically lost and frightened, reminded Remus of an abandoned stray. James had pulled off the Invisibility Cloak before Remus could protest, and gave his twelve-year-old friend one of the first of many brotherly hugs.

In a different, but similar fashion, Harry and Ron had the same expressions on their faces. They were cut off from everything they were used to all of a sudden. They were looking at Remus with identical guarded anticipation, as if waiting to be guided.

Remus did the only thing he could think of. He could hardly offer comfort by words, or any other actions in the dismal house.

"Let's have Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream in Diagon Alley."

* * *

In bright daylight, wrapped in the warmth of the sun, ice-cream felt like the perfect solution to all problems. Ron and Harry shared a banana boat, a replica of a pirate ship with thinly-sliced banana as the wooden boat, cream to hold them together, and at least a dozen scoops of ice-cream in the boat. There were many passers-by, so there was a general air of busy bustling and cheerful dispositions.

In spite of it, Remus felt uneasy. "I think we should go back," he told the table.

"So fast? We just got here," said Ron in surprise, his upper-lip white with vanilla ice-cream.

"I know," he admitted. It was true that the boys looked much brighter and acted more like schoolboys their age as they attacked their ice-cream. He could not shake off the uneasiness that radiated from certain passer-bys. He was generally a good reader of body language, and being a werewolf heightened his ability to sense his prey's – people's – motions. Today was not a good day. _I shouldn't have brought them here._

"Remus, isn't that Dawlish?" Marlene frowned, leaning forwards in her seat.

He turned around. Dawlish was a young Auror, in Marlene's year. The man was standing rigidly outside Flourish and Blotts, his right hand in his pocket. He was almost hidden in the shadows of the wide canopy outside the bookshop. His stance though…

Remus carefully followed Dawlish's gaze. Directly opposite Flourish and Blotts was the secluded entrance to Knockturn Alley. A man in black robes hurriedly walked past the entrance, throwing anxious glances at the passers-by around the area.

There was an alarming number of 'passers-by' for a morning in the middle of the week.

It all happened in a split-second. Dawlish's right hand moved as though he was scalded by something, his wand pointing forwards. People started screaming for what seemed like a long time before jets of light flew. Marlene had her back to the street – _her back to the street_ – already pushing the boys into the shop out of harm's way. One of the boys yelled in shock as a tremor seemed to shake through the building. Half the archway of the shop gave way.

Then, everything came back to speed. Remus was already sprinting to help the boys, his chief care. Florean's red face appeared over the counter seconds at a time, crying out protection spells for his shop. Marlene's face was white and Remus felt like vomiting, smelling the blood in the air. She staggered forwards with Remus half-pulling, half-carrying her.

"_Confringo_!"

"_Aguamenti! Aguamenti_!"

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

Remus's brown eyes widened as he watched the green light pass his shoulder by inches. An unnamed man crumpled to the ground in front of him. Without realizing it, he turned around. The Death Eaters had their masks on, but the long blond hair was unmistakable.

"_Expulso_!"

It was hard to make out anything from the chaos. The Aurors danced around the shouted spells, putting up a ferocious fight. The Death Eaters were intent on mass destruction. While their spells were aimed at Aurors, the dodged ones caused the shop fronts to explode magnificently.

"I found one!" a Death Eater yelled nearby. A familiar man clutched his stomach, red staining his hands already, but his wand was still a blur as he dueled the Death Eater.

"Sirius! _Impedimenta_!"

Bodies were falling from all sides, and glass never seemed to cease to be exploding into sharp slivers at any end of the street. Remus leaped, his wand twirling like a baton as he attempted to take down as many black-cloaked figures as possible. The number of civilians remaining on the street had dwindled, but the black-cloaked figures seemed to be solid and everywhere.

He did not hear the curse – how could he, above all the screams and hoarse yells – but then the Dark Mark hovered in the darkened and smoky sky. A horrible cheer and raucous laughter rippled throughout the street. Desperate attempts to stop the Death Eaters from Apparating failed.

Everything faded to dead silence.

It was only in the unnerving silence did Remus hear the loud protests of his body. His shoulder was burnt with a somewhat juvenile but effective Stinging Hex. His boots glittered with glass that reflected red blood. His arms were covered with tiny cuts. He looked up to see Sirius being helped by another Auror.

Fenwick was shouting orders from faraway, his voice thick. Remus stumbled through the rubble, ignoring the sudden ache in his left knee, looking for the ice-cream parlor. He cursed his stupidity a hundred times over for coming to Diagon Alley. _Please let them be alright._His voice sounded frantic even in his mind.

The rubble in front of the ice-cream parlor blocked most of the entrance. Just within his peripheral vision, Remus caught sight of the umbrella table where the four of them were eating in relative comfort mere minutes ago. It was squashed flat, rocks scattered all over, with a black-robed man half-lying on it.

"Marlene? Mr. Fortescue?" He pointed his wand at the rubble, taking a deep breath to steady his aim. He had been in battle before, but there was no such thing as an easy battle. "_Reducto_!"

It was reduced to dust. He scrambled inside. "Here," said a young boy, and it took Remus a while to recognize it as Harry's. "Professor Lupin, she's hurt her back."

It was dim, but Remus could make out the red-haired boy wearing a white undershirt. He was pressing his bunched-up shirt on the woman's lower back. Marlene's eyes were closed, but he could hear the continuous stream of whispers. "A little harder… Ouch! It's okay, it's okay… Good job Ron…"

Then, a white light brightened the room. "Anybody critically hurt?" a crisp voice said. "I'm a Healer."

Remus waved his hand. The Healer was in a lime green robe, its vibrant colour easily distinguishable. He swept forward. "_Oh Godric_, Marlene."

"Are you hurt?" Remus asked the boys. They shook their heads. Harry had dirt on his face, and Ron seemed shocked into silence, but they nevertheless looked normal. "I'm so sorry."

The words 'It's alright' flashed in Harry's mind, but he said nothing. There was nothing fine with the picture. What _was_ this world?

"We'll go back first," Remus said quietly. Ron got up shakily. A silent spell spurted water gently from the end of his wand, washing Ron's hands.

Side-along Apparition. Baths. There were two showers side-by-side in the master bedroom. Not wanting to leave the boys alone after what happened, Remus sat down on the floor. As the rush of water came on, and steam fogged the mirrors and crept out of the slightly ajar twin doors, Remus began explaining to the boys.

"The wizarding world is not safe," he said, leaning against the bed, all the fight out of his body. "It hasn't been, not since Voldemort came out." There was a thud of plastic hitting the floor, and Remus knew someone had dropped a soap bottle. "There haven't been broad light attacks for nearly two years already. I'm so sorry."

* * *

An hour later, they were in front of the fireplace. To fill up the silence, Remus continued explaining little details. What did Ron's father do in the Ministry? ("He's in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, I believe.") Did Harry have any siblings? ("No, they only had one son.") If Remus thought the questions were strange, he did not comment. At first, it was Harry hesitantly asking questions, then Ron followed suit. On Remus's part, he wondered at the back of his mind why the Order members seemed so wary of the boys.

In the middle of explaining his current lesson plan, a wild idea he had when they settled into moody silence again, the fire spurted green sparks, and a red letter fell on the carpet.

"We pass messages like this, using slightly modified Floo Powder."

"Do you usually get Howlers?" Ron asked, looking at the slightly trembling letter. The slight tremor in his voice had almost disappeared already.

"Ah… no."

"REMUS! HOW COULD YOU HAVE GONE TO DIAGON ALLEY?" With the letter naturally amplifying his voice, Sirius must have been talking very quietly, because the letter was talking in normal tones. "You're lucky I'm not there to strangle you!" There was a pause. "Marlene's fine, I just saw her at the Hospital Wing. Molly and Arthur are going to stay in Grimmauld Place with their kids for a while. The Death Eaters –" Sirius swore "– were looking for an Order member. I think they found one." There was another pause. When Sirius continued, his voice sounded thick. "Three Aurors didn't make it. There's a fourth missing."

The letter hovered in mid-air. There was a choking sound. "They took James."

Then the paper tore itself up.

* * *

Hermione felt the cold, hard floor under her fingertips first. There was a light pounding in her head. She curled her fingers into her palm, and then opened her eyes. She registered the dark cell dully. She was slumped against the grimy walls when she woke up. The shock had not worn off yet. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she was imprisoned by Death Eaters. She had read about them, in the Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts.

Her gaze fell onto a man sprawled on his side in front of her. He was in his thirties. The detached part of Hermione noticed coolly the darker areas on his knitted maroon pullover, and the awkward angle his right leg was bent. He had a shock of black hair. His glasses were broken but still in the cell, a few inches away from his outstretched hand. In the quiet, she could hear shallow breathing.

She closed her eyes.

* * *

A/N: Sorry if the chapter's a bit rushed, I just had to type it all out. "Marchin On", "Lights Will Guide You Home" and "Somewhere Only We Know" were the main tracks to this chapter.

Help me push the number to 400 :)

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!


End file.
